


Dawnwhisker's Plot

by RosePocky



Series: Dawnwhisker's Plot [1]
Category: Warrior Cats - Fandom
Genre: Gen, Original Character(s), Warrior Cats
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-12
Updated: 2020-05-27
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:22:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 16
Words: 21,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22683925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RosePocky/pseuds/RosePocky
Summary: We have seen an outsider's view of Dawnwhisker's reign of terror, but how did she become the way she is?
Series: Dawnwhisker's Plot [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1631767
Kudos: 2





	1. A Dark Vision

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to my new story! This is basically a prequel to Snowclaw's Story (go read that first for context in this story!) and it's all about her mother, Dawnwhisker! This story will tell how Dawnwhisker grew into the villainous cat she became, and how she planned everything in secret. Chapters are released every Wednesday at 9pm GMT! Enjoy!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dawnkit and Briarkit have finally made it to the day where they are made apprentices. However, Dawnkit's jealousy causes their leader, Owlstar, to see something in her that he truly fears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to my new story! This is basically a prequel to Snowclaw's Story (go read that first for context in this story!) and it's all about her mother, Dawnwhisker! This story will tell how Dawnwhisker grew into the villainous cat she became, and how she planned everything in secret. Chapters are released every Wednesday at 9pm GMT! Enjoy!

The sun shone brightly above Windclan camp. Cats rose from their nests, stretching and yawning before leaving to join various patrols or lay out in the golden rays of warmth. In the nursery, purrs sounded out and paws thrummed excitedly against the ground. An amber and white she-kit paced cooly around her mother’s nest, while the white queen groomed another of her kits.  
“Dawnkit, please stop pacing. It’s distracting.” The queen paused her work for a moment, glancing sideways at the ginger kit. Her blue eyes didn’t leave the kit she was grooming, and she went back to her work after the other stopped walking. “You and Briarkit need to look your best in front of the clan and your paws will be bringing up all the dust. Your cheek fur is already ruffled.” She continued in a calm tone. Dawnkit narrowed her icy blue eyes at her mother.  
“It’s not! Look, I can fix it.” She sat on her haunches and combed her sharp claws through the spiky fur on her face. Her mother looked round again and huffed. “Dawnkit! Stop making it worse!” She rose from the nest and pulled the ginger kit towards her, fixing her fur whilst her tail tip twitched irritably. The remaining kit stood up and looked over the top of the nest. “Fawnstorm, she looks okay! Don’t worry about it so much.” She purred softly. Dawnkit flashed her sister a grateful look and their mother got up.  
“I just wanted you to both look good for your apprentice ceremony today! You’ll finally be out of my fur.” Fawnstorm joked. Briarkit chuckled, but Dawnkit felt a pang of anger at the statement.  
“You won’t see me when I become an apprentice. I’ll have the best mentor and I’ll always be out on patrol and working for the clan. Just watch me.” She puffed her chest out confidently, to the amusement of her mother.  
“Cats old enough to catch their own prey, please gather around High Rock for a ceremony.” Owlstar’s wise voice rang out through the clearing, and Fawnstorm ushered her two kits to the front. Her mate and their father, Ashenshadow, padded over and touched his nose to the top of each kits’ head. “Good luck, I know you’ll both do well.” He smiled. Cats of all ages began to gather around and form a circle to watch the ceremony. Bluecloud sat alongside Tallbranch and Spottedheart, Duskjaw and Nightcreek followed Brownkit out of the nursery as he walked on unsteady paws, and the medicine cat, Deerspot, sat at the edge of her den.  
Dawnkit walked confidently to the front of the crowd, Briarkit close beside her. Finally, she would get to do something useful. She’d had enough of the elders nagging her to be more like her sister or help out more. She’d show them.  
“We have gathered today to welcome two of Windclan’s kits to apprenticehood. We wish them luck in their training. Dawnkit, step forwards.” Owlstar called out.  
“Do you promise to train and learn everything from your mentor?”  
“I do.” She mewed, head held high.  
“By the power of Starclan, I give you your new name, Dawnpaw. Your mentor will be Elmsong.” The calico she-cat padded out from the crowd and touched her nose to Dawnpaw’s. She gave a friendly smile, before moving to stand at the side.  
“Briarkit, do you promise to do the same?” Briarkit nodded eagerly in response.”  
“Briarpaw, I give you your mentor, Beechfur.” Dawnpaw felt a jolt of burning jealousy shoot through her paws. Beechfur? She was one of Owlstar’s most trusted cats! Obviously Briarpaw would get a better mentor than her; everyone liked Briarpaw! She was clearly Owlstar’s favourite. With any luck, she’d even be leader after him! Dawnpaw’s anger bubbled inside her gut and she twitched her tail furiously. Owlstar leaped down from the top of High Rock and walked to the apprentices to congratulate them.  
“I am confident you will both make excellent apprentices. Starclan is shining down on both of-” He trailed off, moving his gaze from Briarpaw to Dawnpaw. Her chilling blue eyes pierced his brown ones, which were slitted and wide with fear. The leader stared at her for a moment, taking a pawstep backwards as his fur bristled. Dawnpaw frowned, confused. She looked over at Briarpaw, who seemed as puzzled as she did. When she looked back at Owlstar, he seemed to have recovered and shook his head to clear his vision.  
“I-I.. I’m sure you’ll both become talented warriors.” He stammered, muttering under his breath as he briskly turned tail and walked towards his den. Dawnpaw’s gaze followed him, watching as his ears flattened and he ducked into the den.  
“What was that all about? Maybe he had a vision? But why about you? You’re only an apprentice!” Briarpaw brushed her fur against her sister’s. “I’m not sure. But it’s probably nothing to worry about. He’s old, after all.” Dawnpaw remarked, eliciting a chuckle from her littermate. Whatever Owlstar had seen clearly wasn’t good, but Dawnpaw found that she didn’t care. In fact, she liked it.


	2. Clan Annoyance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dawnpaw finds everything and everyone in camp irritating. New kits, a distracted mentor, a skillful sister and gentle friend, everyone is getting on her nerves.

Dawnpaw squinted as she looked up at the hot sun. It had been a warm week in the lake territories and she had been feeling even more irritable than usual. She picked up the large rabbit she had caught and struggled to carry it over to where Elmsong was waiting. Her mentor’s tail raised in greeted and she gave her a gentle smile. Though the calico’s demeanor was friendly, Dawnpaw knew she was getting annoyed too. She had been struggling to run fast enough to catch anything and almost accidentally crossed one of their borders by trying to run ahead and impress her patrol. Dawnpaw felt as if everyone was against her for making the same mistakes as any other apprentice. She had finally caught something today and behaved well, wasn’t that enough? The fact her sister was excelling in every aspect of her training wasn’t helping either. Beechfur was a brilliant mentor and Owlstar was clearly keeping his eye on the both of them. Elmsong was okay, but she wasn’t anything special. She was just a general warrior, too head-over-paws for Stonestep to fully concentrate on anything. Even now, she gazed longingly over at the warrior as he collected his hunt from the base of a tree to carry back to camp. Dawnpaw scowled, stalking past her mentor in the direction of the others. The two were so obliviously in love, it was stupid. She hoped she’d never fall in love with any dumb cat; it looked overrated.  
The patrol arrived back in camp and Dawnpaw trudged over to the fresh-kill pile to deposit her prey. Before she could even get within a few tail-lengths of it, her paws were shoved from underneath her as three kits ran past. Her chin hit the ground hard and she looked around to find who did it. Her icy blue eyes landed on the culprits and she snarled, moving herself into a sitting position. The three kits huddled against each other, eyes wide with terror. Spottedheart and Mistclaw’s litter had been born 2 moons ago and they were surely a pawful. Goldkit was curious, yet careful. Ripplekit was mischievious, and Lochkit enjoyed watching his sisters play tricks on the other cats. From the day they set paw outside the camp and began whispering rumors about her from the elders, Dawnpaw despised the little scraps. Her hackles rose and she crept towards them. She was about to unsheathe her claws and scare them even more when Brownpaw intervened and nudged them gently out of the way. With a few comforting murmurs and a joke, the kits brightened up and ran off to play elsewhere. Brownpaw stood up straight and faced Dawnpaw. She huffed and rolled her eyes, aware of other cats watching her anxiously. Whenever she lashed out at anyone or got to the end of her wits, the whole clan waited with a held breath. It was dumb, it wasn’t like she was actually going to kill them! What a joke. The young apprentice must have the world’s longest patience; he always stayed calm with her, even if she was acting out.  
“It’s not their fault, I’m sure they didn’t mean it. They’re just kits.” He said, padding closer. Dawnpaw glared at him. “They should know better. I’m not in a good mood today.” Brownpaw chuckled, brushing his pelt against hers. “You’re never in a good mood. Leave them be.”  
Dawnpaw sighed and let her fur lie flat. “I’m never having kits if they’re going to turn out like them. They’re annoying little brats.”  
Brownpaw mirrored her eye-roll, smiling light-heartedly all the while. “Hey, nice catch! Where’d you get it?” He gestured to the rabbit splayed on the ground.  
“By the Riverclan border. It doesn’t matter anyway, those kits ruined it by making me drop it.” Dawnpaw picked it up and carried it over to him. “Want to share it? When Briarpaw gets back, she can have some too.” She shoved it towards the brown tom as she saw his eyes light up. Pawsteps thudded into camp and Dawnpaw looked behind her to see her sister barreling into her.  
“Dawnpaw! Dawnpaw! Beechfur said I mastered a warrior fighting move today! Isn’t that so cool!” Her sister’s excited voice only dragged Dawnpaw’s spirits down even further. “Yeah. Cool.” She mewed through gritted teeth. A pang of hatred and jealousy shot through her before she took a breath and forced it down. “Hey, share some of this with me and Brownpaw. You don’t want to starve.” She teased. Briarpaw flicked her nose with her tail tip with a giggle and settled comfortably beside her. Dawnpaw let the two eat and chat before joining in herself. As much as clan life seemed to hate her, and she hated it, she knew she would always be able to depend on her two best friends if she ever needed anything.


	3. First Meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dawnpaw leaves camp to take her frustrations out on prey, but comes across an unlikely mentor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for this being a day late! I went to see Cavetown in concert last nigh and got back too late to do anything ^^ I hope you enjoy this anyway!

Leaves crunched beneath Dawnpaw’s pads as she walked through the wooded part of Windclan territory alone. She had left camp in the late afternoon, telling Elmsong that she wanted to do some extra hunting. Her mentor had allowed her to go, but that she couldn’t go alone. Dawnpaw had barely heard that part as she was already sprinting out of camp. She knew her mentor would tell her off when she got back later, but right now, she couldn’t care less. Leaf-fall was arriving early and the scent of treesap and berries flooded her senses. The apprentice strode through the undergrowth, long ears pricked for any signs of prey. A rustling in the leaves a few fox-lengths away alerted her to what she was looking for. She tasted the air. Mouse. Crouching down into her well-practised hunting crawl, she edged forwards towards the noise. Perhaps after this catch, she’d hunt some more. What would Owlstar say when she brought back multiple pieces of food for the clan! Surely he’d stop giving her weird looks whilst in camp, or keeping a close eye on her during patrols. She’d even caught him watching from afar during her battle training! Dawnpaw unsheathed her sharpened claws and dug them into the dirt as she got closer to the mouse. Perhaps Fawnstorm and Ashenshadow would stop blatantly preferring Briarpaw over her. And Elmsong would stop comparing her to her sister. Sure, Briarpaw is good, but so is she! Dawnpaw felt the familiar bubble of anger and jealousy creeping into her gut. She’d show them all one day. They’ll be sorry for treating her badly when they see what she can truly do.  
Dawnpaw leapt at the mouse with a furious hiss. The mouse squeaked in terror but was unable to escape before Dawnpaw’s claws dug into it. Her vision became a blur of red and her claws tore and tore at the prey. She imagined all the cats who put her down and gave her disapproving looks under her claws instead of the mouse. One day, they’d all bow down to her, do what she said, and never treat her wrong again.  
It was a few moments before Dawnpaw snapped out of it. She looked down at her bloodied paws and sheathed her claws. Blood dripped from her fur and onto the mangled corpse of the mouse. For a second, Dawnpaw was shocked at how much she had disfigured and torn the prey apart. She felt so much anger surging through her, it must have fuelled her to take her anger out on it. Wrinkling her nose up, she carelessly scraped some dirt over it. There was no point taking that back to camp; she’d have to find something else.  
“What did that mouse ever do to you?” A voice from behind her sent the apprentice stumbling in the opposite direction, fur on edge and claws unsheathed once more. Her icy blue eyes darted round to see where the voice had come from. A tall, lanky tom stood before her. His fur was dark and Dawnpaw was sure that she could see the trees through him. His eyes were a glowing red; the same crimson glow came from his fur too.  
“Who are you?” Dawnpaw asked, not letting her guard down. “Why are you on Windclan territory?” The cat chuckled, taking a step forwards.  
“Territory and boundaries are such petty matters, are they not?” His voice was smooth, calm and cool. “Call me Ghost. That’s what cats used to call me, anyways.” Dawnpaw’s ears pricked up. She had heard that name in an elder’s tale once. She hadn’t been listening though, the elders often babbled nonsense and she had learned at an early age to tune them out.  
“What do you want?” She asked, forcing her fur to flatten.  
“I’m not going to hurt you, so put those pretty claws away. I don’t really want anything, but I have more of an invitation.” He said, taking a few more steps forwards until he was face to face with the spiky apprentice. He seemed to have a knowing aura around him, and Dawnpaw wasn’t sure if she felt unsettled or comfortable around him.  
“I want to help you to become the best cat you can be. I’ve noticed how your clan treats you. Surely they won’t allow you to grow to your full potential. Owlstar looks at you as if you’ve killed his family!” He joked. Dawnpaw kept her gaze serious.  
“If you allow me to train you in secret, you will have power. You’ll be able to show them exactly what you’re capable of. You’ll be able to do whatever you like.” Ghost’s offer sounded tempting, and Dawnpaw twitched her tail tip. She opened her mouth to ask another question, before she scowled in realisation.  
“Elmsong would never let me out of camp alone, and I’d never have time to train and work for the clan.” She sighed, scuffing her paw across the dirt. Ghost’s glowing eyes seemed to shine a little brighter.  
“I won’t train you during the day. It’ll be at night. And it won’t be here either. At least, not in the waking world.” Dawnpaw’s eyes widened.  
“In my dreams?” “Mhmm. What do you say?”  
Dawnpaw didn’t even have to think about it. “I accept.”


	4. Dark Training

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dawnpaw meets Ghost in the Place of No Stars for her first training session.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reminder that you can see all cover art for each chapter at @rose.writes.tales on Instagram!  
> Also, I'm hosting an art giveaway on my Twitter page, @roserocks_art! Go check it out!

Dawnpaw caught another mouse after her encounter with Ghost. After she had accepted his offer, he had smiled and flashed his red eyes before fading into whisps of nothingness. The young apprentice had shaken her head, confused. Surely she hadn’t been dreaming it? Thoughts whirled around her head as she trotted into camp.  
“Where have you been?” Elmsong’s voice sounded from across the clearing and her mentor rushed over. “I told you to not leave camp without a buddy! You’re still only an apprentice, you have to follow the rules. You can’t just rush off like that.” Dawnpaw huffed and dropped the mouse, flattening her ears angrily.  
“Well, at least you caught something while you were out.” Elmsong sighed. She inspected the mouse and stood up again with a satisfied nod. “You can take it to the nursery. I’m sure Mistclaw would appreciate it. Her litter are such a pawful these days.” Dawnpaw picked the mouse up again in her jaws with a snort. Finally, something they could agree on.  
“We’re on the dawn patrol tomorrow, so get some rest. We’ll be out at sunhigh.” Elmsong called to her over her shoulder as she walked back to where Stonestep was sitting, waiting for her. Dawnpaw grunted. Of course, on the first night of her secret training, she had to get up early.  
Trudging into the nursery, Dawnpaw’s mood immediately grew more sour at the sight of Windclan’s newest kits. Goldkit and Lochkit were throwing a ball of moss to each other while Ripplekit tried to catch it. The moss flew over her head every time, and Dawnpaw twitched her tail in annoyance when the blue-grey kit began to whine about it. Nestled together near the kits, Spottedheart and Mistclaw, the litter’s mothers, were sharing news of the day. Mistclaw had kitted the three, so she had to stay in the nursery to feed and care for the kits, while Spottedheart, who used to be a tom, worked her daily duties before spending the rest of the day with her mate. Dawnpaw padded over and dropped the mouse nearby.  
“I caught this. Elmsong thought you’d like it.” She said bluntly. Mistclaw looked round and gave the apprentice a cheerful smile.  
“Oh, thank you, Dawnpaw! It’s just what I needed.” She leaned down to eat it while Spottedheart glanced over at their kits.  
“They’re growing fast, aren’t they? Soon, they’ll be in the apprentice den, causing even more mischief.” She chuckled. “You’ll have your warrior name by then, right Dawnpaw?” Dawnpaw jolted. She hadn’t even thought about that. She’d been an apprentice for over 6 moons now, and her training would be coming to an end. She’d finally be able to do what she wanted!  
“Mm, I suppose so.” She agreed. “Well, I’ll leave you both to it. I’m on dawn patrol tomorrow.” She flicked her tail as a goodbye before leaving the nursery. She headed directly for the apprentice’s den, noticing that the moon was high in the sky already. It had only been dusk when she left, but now it was rather late. Hopefully she wasn’t keeping Ghost waiting. Settling down into her nest, she rested her tail over her nose and drifted into unconsciousness.

Dawnpaw opened her eyes to find herself in a thick, dark woodland. Mist wafted between the trees and the whole area stank of mushrooms and dampness. Dawnpaw stifled a cough and began to walk. Was this where Ghost was going to train her? It was so different to the heather-filled moorland and open fields she was used to. So many trees overhead made her nervous; enemies could easily be hiding up there.  
“Ah, there you are.” As if he appeared out of nowhere, Ghost padded out of the mist before her. “I thought you would never come.” Dawnpaw shook her head and stood up straight.  
“I wouldn’t back out of a deal. Especially if it’ll help me.” Ghost smiled.  
“Good. Lets begin with what you can already do. I want you to fight me.” Dawnpaw looked taken aback. “Fight you? Now?” Ghost answered by lowering into a fighting crouch. Dawnpaw narrowed her eyes and mirrored his actions. With a snarl, she leapt off the ground and towards the transparent tom. She kept her claws sheathed and raked her paw across his side. Ghost easily ducked away and darted behind her. He raised a paw, claws out, and began to bring it down over her face. Dawnpaw hissed and crouched, moving quickly beneath the tom before he could hit her. She arched her spine and stood up fast beneath him, knocking him off balance. Twisting around before he could plant all paws on the ground, she closed her jaws around his tail and bit down, but not hard enough to hurt him. However, Ghost recoiled his tail which slapped Dawnpaw across the face, surprising her. As she stumbled back, he swiped her paws from underneath her and she hit the ground hard. He planted a paw on her chest and stood over her triumphantly.  
“Nice moves, but I win.” He grinned. Dawnpaw shoved him off her and stood up, stretching each one of her limbs in turn.  
“Your reactions were so quick! How did you do that? And getting close enough to swipe my paws from beneath me without getting hurt, how did you pull that off?” She asked, eyes wide. Ghost chuckled with a knowing flash of his red eyes. “Practise. Training and training until you have no energy left. Having no choice but to teach yourself to fight.” He replied, taking a few steps back. He flicked his tail, inviting Dawnpaw to walk with him. She bounded over, keeping in step with him as he led her through the dense forest.  
“Where is this place anyway? Where did you come from?” She asked, looking up at him.  
“Well, I’m sure you’ve heard of me in elder’s tales. I used to roam the lake territory seasons ago. I simply wanted to live amongst the clans, become a warrior like you will be. They were cruel and turned me away. I had to hunt or else I would starve, but they forbade me from even doing that! How cruel some cats could be.” Dawnpaw listened closely, ears pricked. Ghost continued.  
“Cats would pick fights or even try to kill me, so I had no choice but to learn to be the best of the best. One day, I went to the leader of Windclan and asked to be let in. I told them I could fight, hunt, do whatever they pleased. They turned me away again, so I challenged them to a battle to prove my worth. They accepted. We fought for so long that I forgot how long it had been. I ultimately defeated them, and it just so happened that they were on their last life. I thought I had won once and for all. Finally, I’d be accepted by their kind. But no.” He dug his claws into the ground.  
“Their warrior ancestors. The ones they call Starclan. They came down from the skies to strike me down. They took my life and left me with many scars. I was only asking for acceptance, and they killed me for it. Some ‘saviours’ they are.” Dawnpaw stared at him. She couldn’t believe that Starclan would do such a thing. She felt angry at her ancestors for casting a helpless cat away for no reason.  
“This place is the Place of No Stars. Or the Dark Forest, whichever you prefer. When I first arrived here, I had white glowing scars all over from the wounds the Starclan cats had given me, but the more time I spent in here, the more darkness covered them. Now, there are none.” Ghost smiled.  
“I appreciate the company, Dawnpaw. Your fighting is good, but I can help make it even better. Soon, not even Starclan will be able to strike you down.”


	5. Sisterly Fights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dawnpaw trains with Briarpaw, and when her sister picks up on something strange, the two snap in an argument.

Dawnpaw cracked an eyelid open as sunlight filtered through the thin layers of bracken that made up the apprentice’s den. She groaned, remembering that Elmsong wanted her for a patrol. She and Ghost had spent the rest of the night training alone in the Place of No Stars. He had insisted that they had their claws out during battles.  
“There’s no better way to learn than this. Without claws, you can’t be sure you know the move perfectly. You can be more accurate when you’ve practised the action to its full potential.” He had stated. Dawnpaw agreed, unsheathing her claws and showing no mercy. While she had inflicted a few nasty wounds on the ghostly cat, he had landed some neat blows on her too.  
Dawnpaw could hear Elmsong’s voice outside, and scrambled out of her nest to join the patrol.  
“Dawnpaw, there you are! I was going to ask Briarpaw to fetch you. Let's go, we’re already late.” Her mentor trotted over and nudged her in the direction of the waiting cats. Nightcreek, Owlstar, Briarpaw, and Beechfur stood at the entrance to camp, chatting amongst themselves. Owlstar’s tail twitched when he spotted Dawnpaw approaching, and the young apprentice fought the urge to unsheathe her claws.  
“Dawnpaw! Good morning- what’s that?” Briarpaw walked by her sister’s side, pelts brushing together as the patrol walked ahead of them out of camp. Briarpaw’s wide blue eyes were focused on a bloody patch on Dawnpaw’s shoulder.  
“Huh? How did that get there? I must’ve snagged my fur on a thorn in my nest or something.” Dawnpaw shrugged, reaching round to give the cut a lick before hurrying her pace to catch up with the patrol. She could feel Briarpaw’s concerned and suspicious gaze burning her pelt before she caught up.  
The patrol headed towards the lake, giving every cat the opportunity to lap at the water and refresh themselves before carrying on. Dawnpaw scooped up a pawful of water and washed the blood from her wound. It stung and she hissed in pain, watching the redness wash away from the shore. Twitching her ears, she could hear other cats across the river. The Gathering island lay deserted, water splashing against the log used to cross to the small patch of land. Squinting, she could just about see the other side of the river where Shadowclan’s territory was. She hadn’t met many Shadowclan cats yet, but she had heard plenty of stories that they were sneaky and always planning something. Dawnpaw snorted. They didn’t sound that threatening to her. She’d be able to take five of them down with a flick of her claw after her training with Ghost was done. The patrol followed the water’s edge to the stream that bordered Thunderclan territory. Beechfur stopped in her tracks, scenting the air. The fur on her spine bristled.  
“Thunderclan scent up ahead, and I can already tell it’s on our side of the border.” She reported to Owlstar. The leader nodded. “Follow me, everyone. We’re not looking for a conflict, remember?” Dawnpaw huffed but agreed with the other cats with a hum. She couldn’t wait to try out her new skills on someone, but today may not be the day.  
The patrol moved along the border, replacing the scent marks with their own. The sound of splashing and meows up ahead only made the Windclan cats more uneasy.  
“Stop, we’re gonna cross the border!” Dawnpaw could already hear the hushed mews of cats nearby. They weren’t even trying to hide!  
“Hush. I nearly had that rabbit, and I’m going to get it. No one will notice.”  
“Who won’t notice?” Owlstar stepped into the open, confronting the cats in the water. Dawnpaw stuck her head round Elmsong to see who the cats were. Three cats stood belly deep in the stream, eyes wide as they realised they had been caught. Owlstar’s eyes dragged over them, and he took a step forwards.  
“Spiderface, Brookwhisker, Hawkpaw. Why are you crossing the border?” He asked them sternly. The brown tabby apprentice had his blue eyes wide open, staring at who Dawnpaw assumed to be his mentor, Spiderface. Brookwhisker, a grey she-cat, spoke first.  
“We are retrieving Thunderclan prey that crossed the border. I laid my claws on it first, so it’s ours.” She spoke calmly, though her narrowed eyes betrayed her hostility.  
“You know the rules. It’s Windclan prey now.” Owlstar said.  
“No, it’s ours! Brookwhisker nearly caught it but it jumped over the stream!” Hawkpaw blurted. Spiderface shot his apprentice a glare and muffled the rest of the young tom’s speech with his tail.  
“We’re not looking for a fight. It’s yours. Whatever. Let’s go.” He glared at the patrol before turning round and wading back to Thunderclan land. Hawkpaw huffed and paddled after him.  
“I’ll be sure to mention this to Sparrowstar at the next Gathering. He needs to know what his warriors are doing behind his back.” Owlstar murmured to Beechfur, who nodded. Brookwhisker stayed where she was in the stream, eyes fixed on Owlstar, before turning tail and walking away. “Next time, you won’t stop us.” She muttered. Dawnpaw’s hackles rose and she snarled as the three cats walked back into the woodland. Elmsong shot her a look.  
“We weren’t looking for a fight. It’s over now, let’s move on. I was thinking we could do some battle training with Beechfur and Briarpaw after the patrol. Sound good?” Dawnpaw’s eyes lit up. “Sure!” She could, once again, feel Briarpaw staring at her from nearby. So what if she wasn’t always positive? Couldn’t her sister let her be happy for once?  
The four cats finished the patrol and arrived at the Windclan training grounds near camp. Elmsong crouched before the three and showed off a new move, going through the movements step-by-step before practising it on Beechfur. It required the attacker to stand on their hind paws and slash at their opponent’s face with their front paws. The two mentors then stood to the side to let Dawnpaw and Briarpaw test it out on each other. “Claws sheathed, remember?” Beechfur called. Dawnpaw dropped into a fighting crouch and eagerly awaited Briarpaw’s approach. Her sister darted forwards nimbly and reared back, copying Elmsong’s movements perfectly. Dawnpaw hopped backwards and ran around her sister, expecting her to move round so Dawnpaw could try out the move too. However, as she reared up, she tripped over a twig and nearly fell onto her side before her training with Ghost kicked in. She twisted her body so she could land on her paws again, and used a powerful leap to tackle Briarpaw to the floor. Briarpaw, dazed, shook her fur off and looked up at Dawnpaw with a look of confusion. Dawnpaw didn’t care; the adrenaline pumping through her veins was worth it. Elmsong trotted over, eyes sparkling. “Dawnpaw, that was clever! Fixing your balance and surprise-tackling like that, that’s a good tactic. And you pulled it off expertly. I wouldn’t expect you to know something like that until much later. Well done.” Dawnpaw beamed from the praise. She was getting good comments! Beechfur even gave her an approving nod!  
“Briarpaw, perhaps you can learn that move from Dawnpaw in your spare time, hm? It’d be useful to add to your training.” Beechfur commented with a smile.  
The training session continued until sunhigh, when Elmsong dismissed the apprentices and told them to get some food. The two mentors walked back to camp, chatting amongst themselves, while Dawnpaw felt light with happiness. She had pulled some more clever moves she had learned from Ghost and received even more praise for them. Elmsong seemed really pleased with her for once, and she liked doing things her own way. Briarpaw, however, seemed more irritated with each comment. Now, she shook dust from her fur and padded over to where Dawnpaw was licking her shoulder wound.  
“What was that?” She asked. Dawnpaw huffed. She knew that tone; concern again.  
“What was what? My training? Come on, we’re both nearly warriors. We should know our fighting moves by now.” She responded.  
“Yes, but those weren’t moves we’ve been taught.” Briarpaw narrowed her eyes. “Have you been sneaking off? Seeing other cats? What’s going on with you today?”  
Dawnpaw felt a surge of anger and she glared at her sister.  
“Just because I’m better at fighting than you doesn’t mean you can accuse me of something like that!” “I didn’t mean-” Briarpaw tried to intervene, but Dawnpaw interrupted.  
“Why can’t you let me be happy for once? You’re always going around, getting high praise and special treatment. And then when I get a few nice comments, you feel like I shouldn’t get them? That’s selfish, Briarpaw.” Dawnpaw spat. As she took pawsteps forwards, Briarpaw took them backwards. “I want you to be happy! I do! But you’re acting off today. I’m worried, that’s all. You’re not acting like the sister I know.”  
Dawnpaw growled. “Then maybe you never knew me at all.” She turned tail and walked away without giving Briarpaw a moment to speak again, fur bristling and tail twitching angrily.


	6. Kit-sitting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dawnpaw and Brownpaw watch Mistclaw and Spottedheart's kits and share a heartfelt moment of honesty.

Dawnpaw trotted through the entrance to camp with her jaws clamped round a mouse. Her tail held high and she felt rather pleased with herself. She had just finished a round of battle training with Elmsong and received more praise for her fighting moves. She was growing more and more agile and nimble; she’d noticed it as she hunted to. It was all thanks to Ghost and his teaching, so she scoffed under her breath when Elmsong seemed pleased with how she was being a good mentor. Dawnpaw had left to go hunt alone; Elmsong had let her for once. She could’ve sworn that she’d seen Ghost’s transparent figure leading the mouse in her direction, and she silently thanked him. She no longer appreciated Starclan and their help. What had they ever done for her? Ghost and the Place of No Stars had been there for her for the last few moons and she was greatly improving. Owlstar’s suspicious looks still hadn’t ceased, however, and Briarpaw hadn’t spoken to her since their argument last moon. Dawnpaw didn’t care. Their parents gave all their attention to Briarpaw, so it was selfish of her sister to throw a tantrum like this.  
Dawnpaw dropped the mouse on the fresh kill pile and was about to head to her nest in the apprentice den when Mistclaw’s voice sounded from a few fox-lengths away.  
“Oh, Dawnpaw! There you are.” She padded over with a friendly smile on her face and ears pricked. Her mate, Spottedheart, stood by the camp entrance, clearly waiting.  
“I wanted to ask if you’d be able to look after the kits for me? Only for a little while; it’s been so long since I’ve left camp and I need to stretch my legs.” Dawnpaw stifled a huff of annoyance. “Sure, they’ll be fine.” She said, though she really didn’t want to spend any more time than she’d have to with those irritating scraps. They were nearly ready to leave the nursery and so were much larger than they used to be, with even more energy to get on her nerves.  
“Thanks, Dawnpaw! Brownpaw will appreciate the company.” The silver she-cat cast a wink over to the nursery, where Dawnpaw’s sharp hearing caught the hushed ‘hey!’ of Brownpaw. Mistclaw was setting them up! Before she could confront the queen, she had already headed back to her mate and both were leaving camp. Dawnpaw frowned, dragging her paws as she walked to the nursery.  
“I-I have no idea what Mistclaw was talking about!” Brownpaw burst out when she walked in. The three kits were watching, giggling to themselves.  
“That’s not true!” Goldkit squeaked. “Brownpaw asked Mistclaw to ask you to come so you could spend time togeth-” The golden kit was cut off by her brother covering her mouth with his paws.  
“She meant nothing.” Lochkit grinned cheekily, laughing when Goldkit shot him a look. Dawnpaw’s fur prickled and she sat down a number of tail-lengths away from Brownpaw. She knew the apprentice had a crush on her. He was terrible at hiding it. Every cat in the clan knew it and she hated the way that they’d watch her when Brownpaw was around. She didn’t like him back and the cotton-brained tom needed to realise that. Though, she felt guilty for leaving him in the dust; it wasn’t his fault that he was so soft. Even now, she could feel his disappointment pulsing from his pelt. With a huff, she shuffled a little closer, turning her head away.  
“So, kit-sitting, are we?” She asked, angling her ears towards the entrance of the den so she could hear if anyone was eavesdropping on their conversation.  
“Mmhm!” He already seemed brighter. “Mistclaw and Spottedheart seemed really bored, so I offered for us to watch the kits for them while they went out! If.. that’s okay with you.” He scuffed his paws on the ground.  
“It has to be. I can’t exactly leave now, can I?” Dawnpaw responded flatly. There was a few minutes of silence between them with only the mews of the kits as they played mossball. Brownpaw curled his fluffy tail around his paws and glanced over at Dawnpaw.  
“Are you mad at me?” His question can as a surprise to the amber apprentice.  
“Mad at you? Why?” “Because I dragged you into this.” “Kit-sitting? There’s worse I could be doing. Why would I be mad?”  
Brownpaw looked down.  
“Because you always seem mad. At me, at Briarpaw, at everyone. Is everything okay?” Dawnpaw twitched her tail. The concern in his voice was so genuine. This tom had no idea what she was doing.  
“Well..” Was she really about to open up to him? He was always so kind, perhaps she should give him a chance? “Cats look at me like I’m a bad omen, or that I should do more of this or more of that. They’re never kind to me, so I’m never kind to them. Except you, I guess.” She messed with a tuft of grass at her paws.  
“But you’re still not super nice to me. Did I do something wrong?” Brownpaw asked softly. “If I did, let me know. I’ll change it for you.” Dawnpaw flattened her ears; why was he being so patient with her?  
“You don’t do anything wrong. I just take out my anger on everyone. Maybe I should go easier on you.” “Really?” “Sure. You’re the one clan cat who’s been nice to me. Even when I act out.” “You deserve it!” Brownpaw grinned, warmth radiating from him. His smile was contagious, and Dawnpaw felt his warmth infect her. This was new and strange, she wasn’t sure if she liked it or not.  
“Thanks, Brownpaw.”


	7. Argument Settled

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dawnpaw attends a Gathering, and finally makes amends with her sister.

Silverpelt hung high in the nightsky, shining brightly beside the full moon. Pawsteps thudded along the shore of the lake as cats from every clan made their way to the Gathering island. Dawnpaw walked beside Brownpaw, their pelts brushing. The two had grown closer since their talk in the nursery, and many cats in Windclan seemed to notice. Dawnpaw brushed them off. She didn’t care; but what she did care about were Briarpaw’s accusing glances every now and again. She wanted to make up with her sister, but Briarpaw always seemed busy or was already talking to someone else. She’d tried to talk to their parents, Ashenshadow and Fawnstorm, about it, but they told her that she was being impatient and needed to give her littermate time alone. Now, Dawnpaw growled under her breath. Brownpaw blinked and nudged her gently.  
“Hey, we’re nearly there.” He murmured. She forced a smile, which seemed to satisfy him.  
As the Windclan patrol neared the log to cross the water, Dawnpaw could already hear the chatterings of cats on the island. She lifted her muzzle and tasted the air, recoiling in disgust when she scented Riverclan’s fishy stink. Thunderclan’s woodland smell was there too, but Shadowclan was missing. Owlstar stepped onto the log and confidently strode across. Beechfur followed, then the senior warriors crossed. Finally, it was Dawnpaw’s turn to cross. She bunched her haunches and leapt onto the log, digging her claws in as she walked across the slippery and damp tree trunk. She hopped down at the other side and cast her gaze over the clearing of cats. Sure enough, Riverclan and Thunderclan were already there, mingling with one another. Vinestar, Riverclan’s leader, sat comfortably on the leaders’ branch with Thunderclan’s old Sparrowstar. Blackflash and Graysting, the deputies, held a short conversation while the medicine cats, Amberstone and Mossysong, chatted cheerily. Mossysong was introducing her new apprentice, Smokepaw, whose eyes were round with wonder. Clearly it was their first gathering. Dawnpaw suppressed a hiss when she spotted Spiderface, Brookwhisker and Hawkpaw amongst the crowd. She hadn’t forgotten them from when they argued at the border a moon ago. Brookwhisker pricked up an ear when the other Windclan cats streamed in and she sagged her shoulders, clearly not impressed to see them either. Brownpaw gave Dawnpaw a soft nudge.  
“C’mon, let’s go see Riverclan! I wonder how their apprentices are doing!” He grinned, bounding over to a group of cats. Dawnpaw huffed and followed behind him. They approached the group of young warriors and Brownpaw purred in greeting.  
“Twitchpaw, Mudpaw! How are you doing?”  
A black tom, Twitchpaw, snorted. “It’s Twitchstream and Mudcreak now! We got made warriors last week.” Dawnpaw narrowed her eyes. He was too confident and arrogant.  
“Woah! Congrats! I bet you’re not happy to put up with him again, huh Pondpebble?” Brownpaw glanced at a blue-grey she-cat as she nodded and chuckled. Dawnpaw remembered she had become a warrior not long after Brownpaw was apprenticed.  
“Say, where’s Pigeonshine? She’s usually the most sociable warrior here!”  
“Oh! She’s expecting her first litter!” Pondpebble’s eyes lit up at the mention of her sister. “She announced it just after the half-moon; I can’t wait to see more kits running round camp again.” Dawnpaw flattened her ears. She couldn’t bear the thought of more kits, the ones in Windclan were annoying enough! A golden tom walked over to the group and touched his nose to Pondpebble’s ear. She gazed up at him and smiled. He seemed lost in her eyes before noticing that Brownpaw and Dawnpaw were there.  
“Dawnpaw! You’ve grown so much since last moon! Are you sure you’re not a warrior already?” He joked. Dawnpaw puffed out her chest. “I’ll be a warrior by next moon, Dawnstride.” Her tone was stern and the other cats shuffled their paws uncomfortably.  
“Well.. uh, good luck. Both of you.” Pondpebble gave them a friendly smile. A yowl from the leaders’ branch alerted the cats that the Gathering was about to start. Dawnpaw and Brownpaw separated from the group and looked up as Shadowclan’s leader joined the other three on the branch. The news went by quickly. Nothing had changed, prey was still running well, and there were few hostilities. More kits had been born, cats apprentices and made warriors, some senior warriors had joined the elder’s den, and some had died. Sparrowstar introduced Smokepaw as Thunderclan’s new medicine cat apprentice, Owlstar announced Brookfoot’s early retirement as deputy and Beechfur’s replacement as the role, and Vinestar mentioned Pigeonshine’s future litter. The meeting came to a close and cats began to chatter again. Dawnpaw got to her paws and stretched with a yawn. She didn’t want to have to deal with any more cats; they were all irritating in one way or another. Brownpaw stood up to talk to Yellowpaw and Grasspaw from Thunderclan but hesitated.  
“Do you want to come with me? I don’t mind if not.” Dawnpaw flicked her tail in response.  
“Feel free to mingle. I’m heading back to camp.” Brownpaw wound his tail with hers for a moment before bounding off excitedly to share news with the others. Dawnpaw watched him go, turning away and padding towards the crossing log.  
“Wait, Dawnpaw?” Briarpaw’s voice sounded from behind her, and her sister stepped out from behind a bush.  
“Were you watching me?” Dawnpaw’s fur bristled. “Yes, but only so I could find the right time to talk to you.” Briarpaw sighed. “I don’t want to fight anymore. Can we just discuss things away from all this?” She gestured to the crowd. Dawnpaw frowned suspiciously, leading her sister behind the leader’s tree and by the shore of the island. Briarpaw slumped to the ground, as if the weight of the conversation was already taking a toll on her.  
“Look, I know we both said things we regret-”  
“Get to the point.” Dawnpaw angled her ears forward. Briarpaw forced the look of hurt out of her eyes, sighing and continuing.  
“I’m sorry. I don’t want to fight anymore. I want things to be the way they were before, between us. I can’t stand not being close to my sister, and if I have to change how I view you, then that’s okay. You said you may not be the sister I knew, so now I want to know who you are.” Briarpaw spoke so genuinely that something in Dawnpaw’s chest ached. She let her gaze soften and got to her paws. Briarpaw smiled and the two sisters embraced.  
“That means a lot. Thank you.” Dawnpaw nuzzled into her littermate’s fur. “Fight over?”  
“Fight over.” Briarpaw chuckled.  
“So, what’s with you and Brownpaw?”  
“What? Nothing!” Dawnpaw drew back sharply, her ear’s turning hot. Briarpaw narrowed her eyes teasingly.  
“Oh come on. Everyone knows that you have emotions besides anger by now.” Dawnpaw forced down a laugh and playfully swiped at Briarpaw. Her sister easily dodged and darted forwards to brush pelts with her.  
“Let’s head back to camp. I’m glad you’ve found someone that makes you happy.” She grinned, heading back in the direction of the crossing log as Dawnpaw walked in step beside her.


	8. Overheard Whispers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dawnpaw finally receives her warrior name, but not before hearing something that makes her furious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I hope you're all staying safe during these challenging times! I'm working on lots more stuff in the SotS universe, including other clans and future/past events in the timeline! Feel free to follow my work at @roserocks_art on Twitter!

Dawnpaw kept her pawsteps stealthy and quiet. She was asleep and was back in the Place of No Stars for training with Ghost. The vast and misty woodland felt as familiar to her as Windclan territory did nowadays. She knew every fungus-covered tree, each hiding spot, the best clearings to battle in, and where the border was. In the Dark Forest, if you walked far enough, you would come across the border to Starclan. Cats who had atoned for their evil deeds would be judged there, and if they passed a trial, would be allowed into Starclan. Ghost had shown her where the border was, but was confident she wouldn’t linger round there long. Dark Forest cats couldn’t pass through the invisible wall, but since Dawnpaw wasn’t dead, she most could. Like she would ever. Starclan were full of old fox-hearted cats who were no better than crowfood.  
Dawnpaw leapt silently over a mangled tree root, ears angling round to listen out for movement. All was eerily quiet until a rustling of leaves above the apprentice alerted her senses to a presence. A black shape dropped out of the tall tree branches and dug his claws into her back. Dawnpaw powerfully bucked the cat off of her and twisted round to slash at his side. Muscle memory of her training kicked in and she slunk behind the cat before he could react. She snarled, to which the cat responded with an amused chuckle. Ghost’s voice was familiar to her now, and she shook her pelt of dust and leaves.  
“You scared me.” She huffed. Ghost raised an eyebrow and laughed under his breath.  
“You weren’t scared. You were ready. Those reflexes are improving each time I see you, Dawnpaw.” Dawnpaw felt her fur grow warm with pride. Ghost jerked his head to one side, gesturing for her to walk with him. As she padded along by his side, she realised that when she started her training with him, she would always look up to him, struggling to keep up with her shorter, kit-like legs. Now, she strode in time with him and was able to look him in the eye. She had grown a lot since she first met Ghost. Her ears were longer, her fur was wiry and spiky, her eyes were sharper, muscles rippled beneath her pelt, and her claws had grown extra long and deadly.  
“You’ve learned a lot in your time here, Dawnpaw.” Ghost glanced at her. “I’ve taught you nearly everything I know. But you’re still young and I have a lot to show you still. If you truly want to get revenge on the clans and show everyone how powerful you can truly be, you must continue to keep on coming here at night.” Dawnpaw snorted.  
“I’d give up the clans quicker than I’d give up coming here. I’d be foolish to give up this opportunity. Once I have my warrior name, I’ll have access to more time and more chances to plan.” She grinned, baring her teeth. Ghost nodded, seemingly pleased.  
“Of course, I already see you as a warrior of the Dark Forest, but clan traditions matter when it comes to power. When you become a warrior of Windclan, you’ll have more responsibilities.” He looked at her, gaze unreadable. “You’ve made up with your sister, I see. And Brownpaw.. You spend a lot of time with him.”  
Dawnpaw felt her fur bristle defensively. “Briarpaw is no hindrance to my training. Brownpaw is kind but way too soft. He’d never get in my way.” Ghost smiled.  
“Good. Anyway, I expect you’ll be receiving your warrior name any day now?”  
“Of course. I completed my assessment yesterday and Elmsong seems eager to complete my training.” Dawnpaw puffed out her chest proudly.  
“Elmsong may think that way, but what does Owlstar think?” Ghost’s question caught Dawnpaw off guard.  
“I don’t know. Though, he’s been watching me during training sessions, and I could almost swear I saw him during my assessment. The old mousebrain never leaves me alone.” She growled. “It’s like he’s scared of what I’ll do, or that he’s too paranoid to let me be.”  
“He’s aware that you’re powerful and dangerous. He wants to protect his clan, but of course, he won’t be around forever.” Ghost grinned. “Now, I’m not planning anything against him, of course, but it could be a possible idea for the future, hm?” Dawnpaw’s icy blue eyes glinted with interest.  
“I’m not sure how many lives he has left, but I’m sure taking him down a notch might get the message across that he doesn’t need to watch me all the time.” She slashed her claws through the dirt, watching the slices merge together again in the mud. Ghost watched too, his red eyes lit up with anticipation.

Dawnpaw awoke with a start. She had been mid battle-training with Ghost after their conversation when Briarpaw had excitedly nudged her awake. “Dawnpaw! Dawnpaw! It’s today!” She whispered excitedly. Dawnpaw forced her fur to flatten and pushed down a growl of annoyance.  
“What’s today?” She asked, voice croaky and eyes bleary. She felt a sting on her foreleg and quickly covered it up; it must be another scar received in training.  
“Our warrior ceremonies! I heard Beechfur talking to Owlstar about it, and he mentioned Elmsong said you were ready! We’re finally going to be warriors!” Briarpaw beamed. Dawnpaw felt her heart racing in her chest. So soon? She thought she’d have to wait at least another day or two; but, she wasn’t complaining. Briarpaw bounded out of the den and Dawnpaw took that moment to lick the blood from her new wound. Brownfur was still snoozing beside her, dark fur matted from his fidgeting in the night. She chuckled under her breath and gently flicked his nose with her tail as she stood up and walked out of the den. Briarpaw was already chatting to Fawnstorm and Ashenshadow, tail high with excitement. Dawnpaw felt an ache of jealousy in her gut as their parents smiled happily for their daughter. They’d never smile at her like that; not genuinely anyway. She dug her claws into the ground and turned away, heading for the dirtplace. Before she could even take a step inside, her sharp hearing picked up on some hushed whispers coming from the medicine den nearby.  
“I can’t. I just can’t do it.”  
“You have to. You can’t punish a cat for something that hasn’t happened yet.”  
“But if I allow her to continue her life in the clan, she’ll destroy us all!”  
Dawnpaw quickly recognised the voices of Owlstar and Deerspot, Windclan’s medicine cat, coming from the den. The ginger apprentice quickly ducked into a gap between the dirtplace and the medicine den, obscured from the main clearing by a bush. Crouching low to the ground, she continued to eavesdrop.  
“Owlstar, you have to give Dawnpaw her warrior name, or the whole clan will suspect something’s wrong.”  
“Something is wrong! I remember that vision loud and clear. When she became an apprentice, I saw her paws drenched in blood, with piles upon piles of bodies around her! She glowed red and a dark figure of a cat loomed behind her!” Owlstar’s voice bordered on a panicked tremor. He was truly terrified.  
“What has she done wrong? Has she killed anyone?” Deerspot sounded equally concerned, but was clearly being cautious and rational.  
“No, but she could. I can’t allow her to destroy my clan like this!”  
“Even as a warrior, we will keep a close eye on her. She’s just one cat. We can make sure that she leaves clan with a trusted warrior and never hunts alone, that she protects the camp during battles, and so on. We can work with this.” Dawnpaw heard the uncomfortable shuffling her paws on the ground.  
“Are you sure?”  
“Confident.”  
“And you’ll speak to Starclan about this at the next half-moon?”  
“Of course.”  
“..Thank you, Deerspot. I just can’t bear to see my clan in danger like this.” Dawnpaw heard the leader stand up and turn to leave, so she trotted out from behind the bush as if nothing had happened. Even as she walked towards Briarpaw, she could feel his gaze burning into her back.  
“Cats old enough to catch their own prey, please gather under the High Rock for a ceremony.” Owlstar padded beneath the tall peak and stood, waiting for the crowd to form. Briarpaw caught up to Dawnpaw and ushered her to the front, standing beside her with their pelts brushing.  
“Today, Windclan gains two new warriors. Briarpaw, Dawnpaw, you have both trained well and are ready to receive your warrior names. Do you promise to uphold the warrior code each day of your lives?” Owlstar asked.  
“I do.” Briarpaw beamed. Dawnpaw gave a simple nod.  
“Then, by the power of Starclan, I grant you your warrior names. Briarpaw, you will now be known as Briarstream. Dawnpaw..” The leader’s voice wavered under Dawnpaw’s sharp gaze. It was as if she was daring him to go back on his word.  
“Dawnpaw, you will be known as Dawnwhisker. May you both work hard for the clan for the rest of your days.” As the crowd erupted into cheers and yowls of the sisters’ new names, Owlstar looked as if he was about to collapse. He stumbled into his den, muttering apologies to Starclan under his breath. Of course, Dawnwhisker was the only one to notice, but her concentration on the old leader was broken when Briarstream nudged her.  
“We’re finally warriors! I’m so happy!” She purred loudly, nuzzling into her sister’s chest fur. Dawnwhisker forced a purr in response and licked her ear affectionately. Fawnstorm and Ashenshadow padded over with Brownpaw, who wound his tail happily with Dawnwhisker’s. The ginger warrior wasn’t listening to any of their congratulations, however. Her eyes were firmly fixed on Ghost’s dark shape in the crowd. His eyes glinted with pride, before his form dissipated into wisps of nothingness.


	9. Taking Advantage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Riverclan attacks Windclan, and Dawnwhisker finds her time to strike.

In the moons since Dawnwhisker became a warrior, many things had happened. She had continued to train with Ghost, her skills improving nightly. She couldn’t spend as much time with Brownpaw since he was still an apprentice, but it wasn’t long before he too became a warrior, receiving the name Brownfur. The three kits, Goldkit, Lochkit and Ripplekit, had been apprenticed to Tallbranch, Fawnstorm and Ashenshadow respectively. Finally, they were busy all the time and weren’t around as often to annoy the warriors in camp. Near the end of leaf-bare, a wave of whitecough had spread through the clans. Thunderclan lost an elder and their medicine cat apprentice,, Shadowclan lost an apprentice and senior warrior, and Riverclan lost a kit. In Windclan, most cats had recovered after catching it, but Mistclaw and Owlstar weren’t so lucky. Mistclaw died with Spottedheart and their kits by her side, murmuring that she was proud to have seen them become apprentices and that she would save a nest in Starclan for Spottedheart. The brown warrior grieved heavily and rarely left her nest nowadays. Owlstar lost a life, but since it wasn’t his last one, he was up and about ordering patrols the next day. Dawnwhisker spent her days hunting and attending patrols with Brownfur and Briarstream, and her nights training with Ghost. She easily slipped into this new routine, glad that she had a little more respect and responsibility around camp. Owlstar continued to watch her carefully, and she shot stern glares in his direction whenever she noticed. He was getting on her nerves more than usual.  
It was the morning after a Gathering and Dawnwhisker arose from her nest, stretching with a yawn that showed her sharp teeth. She had been chosen to go to the Gathering and sat there, amused when Riverclan began throwing accusations at Owlstar of stealing prey. Vinestar’s hackles raised and he had dug his claws so deep into the leaders’ branch that many cats feared it would break. Owlstar denied all accusations, calmly stating that rogues and loners passed through clan territory more often around leaf-bare as they searched for food. Vinestar snarled and ignored him, warning the grey-brown leader to watch his back. Windclan had left early with bristling fur and bared teeth, with Riverclan cats staring daggers into their backs. As Dawnwhisker emerged from the warriors den, she could already see cats milling around as if preparing for battle. Owlstar and Beechfur sat together in the opening to his den, murmuring to each other and clearly trying to find a way to cease the Riverclan rivalry. Spotting Briarstream across the clearing, Dawnwhisker trotted over.  
“Morning. I assume everyone’s antsy about Riverclan’s threats.” She greeted, taking a mouse from the fresh-kill pile and settling down. Briarstream’s tail tip twitched. She looked nervous.  
“I don’t want a fight. This would be our first real battle, and I don’t want to lose anybody.” She glanced over at their parents, who were testing their apprentices on key battle moves by the medicine den. Deerspot padded through the camp entrance with Dovenose and Bluecloud; each cat had a mouthful of herbs and cobweb. The old medicine cat was clearly expecting a fight with many injuries. Dawnwhisker swallowed a chunk of mouse and shrugged.  
“Riverclan eat fish for their diet. They’re not strong enough to win a fight.” Briarstream shot her a sharp look.  
“This is serious! Cats could get hurt.”  
“And? That’s the responsibility of becoming a warrior! It’s expected - no one’s going to live without a few scars.” Dawnwhisker curled her tail over a cut on her leg from last week’s training session with Ghost. Briarstream frowned, shaking her head and standing up to walk away. Before she could even take a step, Pebbletail and Duskjaw ran into camp with their fur on end.  
“Riverclan are on their way!” Pebbletail called, her eyes widened with panic. Owlstar sighed, getting to his paws and calling together a group of warriors. Deerspot hurried to his side, carrying a large bundle of herbs in her mouth. Beechfur looked over the summoned cats and gave a short nod.  
“We’ll meet the Riverclan patrol before they reach the camp. I’ll try to talk with Vinestar before anything happens. Keep your claws sheathed for now.” Owlstar ordered.  
“Brownfur, Spottedheart, Doestep, I’d like you to protect the camp while we’re gone. The apprentices stay here too; we’ll need your skills to keep everyone here safe.” The six cats nodded and watched as the patrol walked out of camp. Brownfur hurried to Dawnwhisker’s side and pressed his muzzle into her fur silently, before watching her leave. Dawnwhisker’s chest ached. He was so worried she wouldn’t make it out of this battle. She chuckled under her breath. She’d be fine.  
As expected, the patrol of Riverclan warriors were fast approaching the Windclan camp, but stopped walking when they spotted Owlstar and his patrol. Vinestar glared at him silently as the cats came closer, and stepped forwards to speak when they stood head-to-head.  
“Vinestar. You’ve crossed the border.” Owlstar spoke steadily.  
“To take back the prey that is rightfully ours.” The grey-green leader hissed. Owlstar shook his head, exasperated.  
“You know we wouldn’t steal your prey. Hunting has been difficult this leaf-bare, but Windclan would never resort to breaking the code.” Vinestar clearly didn’t care.  
“I don’t want to discuss this any longer. Riverclan will take back what is ours, and you can’t stop us.” Vinestar raised his tail and his cats got into their fighting positions. Owlstar sighed and unsheathed his claws.  
“I wish it weren’t like this.” He muttered, before yowling a battle cry. Windclan and Riverclan clashed in a frenzy of snarls and scratches. The battle had begun. Dawnwhisker fought fiercely and without mercy, slashing her claws through fur and clamping her jaws around legs and tails. She was shoved back by a large grey tom and stumbled into the path of a dark brown apprentice. She recognised him as Stormpaw, a new apprentice who gained his new role only a few moons ago. She snarled.  
“So, Riverclan are making kits fight now?” She taunted. Stormpaw hissed and unsheathed his claws, but Dawnwhisker could already see that he was trembling in fear. She darted forwards and easily pinned the apprentice down, lifting her claws and aiming to slash open his stomach. Stormpaw’s eyes widened and he braced himself for death. However, before Dawnwhisker could even begin to bring her paw down, she was knocked onto her back by a strong brown tom. His green eyes bore into her and he muttered something under his breath to Stormpaw. The apprentice scrambled to his paws and ran in the direction of Otterflight, his mentor. Dawnwhisker heaved herself to her paws and growled at the warrior before her. Her fur bristled and she leapt at him, locking her teeth onto his ear and tearing a bloody chunk out. He yowled and scored his claws down her chest. The two wrestled in a furious battle of strength and Dawnwhisker used every Dark Forest move that she could manage. Finally, she caught the tom off guard and pinned him down. She didn’t waste a moment in slashing open his belly, squinting as blood sprayed out and drenched her fur. She staggered back, staring at the warrior as he convulsed and choked on his own blood. Crimson dribbled from his mouth and his eyes glazed over. He was dead. Dawnwhisker felt a rush of adrenaline surge through her veins. She had done that. She had killed another clan cat. She looked down at her claws. It felt good; satisfying, almost. No cat had seemed to notice yet, so she smirked and turned away, leaping back into the fray. The battle was already coming to a close, with injured cats retreating to their camps and medicine cats. Pebbletail and Elmsong fought Stormpaw and Otterflight, Snakestorm wrestled with Tallbranch, and Ashenshadow engaged in combat with Nettlefleck. Dawnwhisker’s gaze landed on Owlstar and Vinestar, and her icy blue eyes sharpened. Now was her chance to make it clear to her leader that she was not to be messed with. She stalked over, keeping her body low to the ground. The two toms didn’t even notice her; they were too busy fighting and hissing. Vinestar landed a heavy blow on Owlstar’s shoulder and he stumbled backwards. Dawnwhisker darted forward and shoved Owlstar to one side, catching her claws across his spine as she ran. His eyes locked with hers. Brown met blue in a clash of anger and betrayal. The leader had no time to react before Vinestar ran forwards and tore out his throat. Windclan’s leader landed on the ground and tumbled through the grass until he stopped. He looked over at Dawnwhisker, who stood nearby to simply watch. His eyes widened in terror and she felt a dark presence lurking over her shoulder. She didn’t need to turn around to know that Ghost had come to watch too. Owlstar gave one last weak cough, before his body lay still. He didn’t wake up again. He had lost his final life and the leader was dead. Vinestar stepped back, shaking the blood from his chin.  
“This battle is over. I’m satisfied. Riverclan, retreat back to camp.” He turned away and began to walk. Amberstone, his medicine cat, was crouched beside the body of the tom Dawnwhisker had killed.  
“Goodbye, Pikeslip. You have served your clan well and now it is time to rest.” He murmured into the blood soaked fur, picking the tom up by his scruff and dragging him away. Other Riverclan cats darted forwards to help him, shooting glares at the Windclan cats. There was a moment of silence before a heart-broken wail split the air. Dawnwhisker turned to see Pebbletail and Beechfur curled around Bluecloud, their mother. Her throat was gushing blood and her eyes were lifeless. Dawnwhisker remembered that Bluecloud had come to Windclan as an escaped rogue and had her kits just days later. She had given up her life so her kits could have a chance to live. Beechfur’s eyes clouded in grief; and she hadn’t even noticed Owlstar yet. Deerspot looked up to the sky, as if asking Starclan why they had experienced so much death in one battle. Cats gathered themselves together and silently carried the two bodies back to camp. Brownfur rushed to greet Dawnwhisker, cleaning the blood from her fur. Briarstream helped Deerspot to treat the most wounded cats, and no more died from their injuries. Beechfur stood atop the High Rock, watching. She was Windclan’s new leader now. Dawnwhisker watched as she appointed Tallbranch as her deputy, and the crowd cheered with exhausted and grief-stricken meows. A new era was beginning in Windclan, and Dawnwhisker couldn’t wait to see what she could do next.


	10. The Famine Begins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As a famine sweeps its way through the lake territory, Dawnwhisker faces a challenge she has never encountered before.

It had been 2 moons since Owlstar’s death. Beechfur had struggled with dealing with the death of both her mother and leader, but held her head high as Deerspot led her to the Moonpool. She returned at sunhigh with a new sparkle of wisdom in her eye and an aura of high authority radiating from her pelt. Beechstar, the new leader of Windclan, named Tallbranch as her deputy. He was one of her most trusted friends and, despite his age, was a noble and strong cat. The clan cheered while Dawnwhisker lurked with Brownfur near the warrior’s den. Though she disliked Beechstar, she at least didn’t know what Owlstar did. Even though Deerspot knew, the medicine cat was old and frail. She couldn’t put up a case against her if she tried.  
Goldpaw, Lochpaw and Ripplepaw had finally become warriors, named Goldtail, Lochcreek and Ripplefang. Dawnwhisker was actually slightly impressed at how responsible the three had become. After all, she had known them since they were kits tripping her over for fun. Now, they sat in the clearing, chattering to each other and greeting their mother, Spottedheart, as she approached. The warrior had watched her kits grow up alone after Mistclaw died. Dawnwhisker watched from afar as Lochcreek got to his paws when Dovenose wandered over. The two cats had been giving each other longing looks for far too long, and Dawnwhisker snorted under her breath as the two embraced. Lochcreek’s sternness always melted away around her, and now it seemed they were finally together. About time, she thought, rolling onto her stomach and letting her pelt warm up in the heat. The greenleaf sun had been hotter than usual this year so far, but Dawnwhisker wasn’t complaining. It gave her an excuse to rest and snooze in the warm weather after she spent her nights in the Dark Forest with Ghost. Dawnwhisker knew each and every move now, and during their nightly meetings, they plotted what to do next. Ghost had mentioned that he was in the process of recruiting more cats to join their cause, twitching his tail eagerly when Dawnwhisker jumped to the opportunity to meet and train newcomers. He explained that they were not in the Clan territory, and he had to travel afar to train them. Though, he assured, she would be able to meet them very soon and build a little Clan of her own in secret. Ghost couldn’t physically walk in the waking world anymore, and thus Dawnwhisker was his most trusted ally. Her fur prickled with anticipation.  
Dawnwhisker’s thoughts were broken by pawsteps thudding into camp. She opened an eye and growled under her breath in irritation, watching as the hunting patrol returned from their daily outing. Beechstar hurried over to meet them, tail high. The leader of the patrol, Stonestep, walked solemnly before his patrol, tail drooping on the ground. Dawnwhisker noticed other cats gathering around to listen, and that the cats in the patrol were carrying very little prey between them.  
“This is all we could find. We scoured every tail length near the training grounds, Thunderclan’s border, and the lakeshore. This sun is burning the plants and the water levels are dropping.” The white and ginger warrior sounded hopeless. Beechstar frowned, looking over at the patrol.  
“What did you catch?” She asked, forcing the concern out of her tone. Duskjaw carried a mouse, Fawnstorm dragged a bony vole with her, and Briarstream placed a thin sparrow on the ground. The gathered cats looked at each other anxiously, and Dawnwhisker realised for the first time that her stomach ached with emptiness. Surely there wasn’t a famine coming? She couldn’t afford to be weak now, not when she had cats to meet and train. Brownfur fidgeted nervously beside her, shuffling his paw next to hers. She glanced at him, recognising the worry in his eyes. He cared so much about his clan, it was almost painful.  
“We must make sure our elders and medicine cat eat first. Then our warriors and queens. I can afford to eat last or nothing at all.” Beechstar decided, asking Duskjaw to take the mouse to Deerspot and Fawnstorm to take the remaining prey to the elders den. Briarstream left her prey with the other cats and trotted over to Dawnwhisker and Brownfur; slumping to the ground in exhaustion and laying her head on her sister’s shoulder.  
“That sun is way too hot. I’m not sure how much I can take.” She stretched, tail quivering anxiously. “I’m going to offer to take a patrol down to the lake and fetch water in mossballs for the elders. Want to come?”  
Dawnwhisker raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t you just come back from a patrol? Why don’t you let the other cats do it? They’re the ones who’ve been sat around all day doing nothing.”  
“That’s because Beechstar doesn’t want to exhaust all her warriors at once on hunting patrols that turn up nothing. Gathering water will be good, come on.” Briarstream huffed and dragged herself to her paws again. Dawnwhisker rolled her eyes and stood up, touching her nose to Brownfur’s ear tip before following her sister. By the time she reached her, Briarstream had already pulled together a group of 3 cats: Ripplefang, Pebbletail and Russetfall. Pebbletail was hurrying over with mouthfuls of moss, placing them gently on the floor and stepping back to allow the other cats to take one each.  
“Only go to the lakeshore and back.” Beechstar called from the entrance to her den. “I don’t want any of you collapsing on your way back.” Briarstream nodded dutifully and led the patrol out of the camp. Dawnwhisker followed along, keeping in step with her sister. Though Briarstream was obviously tired, her eyes were bright and determined. She was always so selfless and Dawnwhisker couldn’t understand why.  
When the cats reached the lakeshore, Dawnwhisker was stunned at how much the water had dropped. Where her paws would usually be lapping the water by now was just a cracked and muddy slope leading several tail-lengths down to the actual water’s edge. Briarstream wasted no time in carefully walking down to it and drenching her mossball in water. When the others recovered from their shock, they followed suit and lapped up a few mouthfuls of water while their mossballs soaked. Dawnwhisker crouched beside her littermate, gaze trailing along the horizon. Her ears pricked up at the sound of voices and she lifted her head to watch a small patrol of Riverclan cats trying to fish where their river met the lake. An apprentice skidded down the sudden slope before a dark warrior bounded down to retrieve him. The other cats there began trying to look for fish, ears flattening slowly when they saw none. Dawnwhisker nudged Briarstream gently.  
“Looks like we’re not the only ones struggling for food.” She murmured. Briarstream sighed, shaking her head in disbelief. She picked the mossball up in her teeth and gently held it so that no water was squeezed out. Using her tail, she signalled for the patrol to follow her lead and began walking back towards camp. Dawnwhisker carried her mossball behind them, shuddering as the cold water dripped onto her chest fur. She looked up at the sun. Hopefully this famine would end soon.


	11. The Loss of her Blood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the famine continues, Dawnwhisker goes through the most difficult events anyone could imagine.

The famine continued for another moon. The lake had dried even more; muddy water licked at the cracked, dry ground while cats from each clan lapped mouthfuls while grimacing. It was all they had. Riverclan’s river had almost fully dried up and there was no fish. They had resorted to hunting at the very edges of their territory, perhaps even beyond it. Thunderclan and Shadowclan had some shelter from the heat amongst the trees, but prey was lacking in their woodland spaces. Windclan spent their days cowered beneath the bushes in camp, using the shade of the High Rock for some relief, and taking it in turns to go on patrol. Few cats had any energy, but somehow, they were surviving. Dawnwhisker dragged her paws back into camp after another hunting patrol. Her fur felt as if it was going to melt off and she carried her catch to the warriors den. The other cats on her patrol had caught a skinny vole and a thrush, which would feed the elders and medicine cat. The mouse that Dawnwhisker had caught was for the warriors, to upkeep their strength. She dropped it on the ground before them, slumping into her nest and chewing at the bone of the dead rabbit she had found yesterday. It was nearly crowfood, but Beechstar insisted that they take it before it went bad. Briarstream lay in her nest beside her. Her ribs stuck sharply out from beneath her pelt and her breathing was slow at best. Dawnwhisker leaned over and licked dryly between her ears.  
“Hey, I brought a mouse back. Go have some.” Briarstream responded with a shake of her head.  
“Give my share to the elders.” She croaked. Dawnwhisker frowned.  
“The elders already have something. You’ve not eaten in days. You didn’t even have the energy to come on patrol this morning.” She felt a pang of worry in her chest. “Just a bite? For me?”  
Briarstream was quiet, before pushing herself up with her paws. Her eyes were hollow and every step she took was shaky and weak. She didn’t even make it to the food before her legs gave out beneath her and she collapsed. Dawnwhisker jumped to her paws, rushing over and crouching by her sister as the other warriors crowded around.  
“Briarstream? Briarstream!” Dawnwhisker flattened her ears when she got no response. Using all of her energy, she picked her littermate up by her scruff and dragged her out of the warriors den. She headed straight for Deerspot’s den, surprised at how easy it was to carry Briarstream. She was so light. The old medicine cat poked her head out of her den when she heard Dawnwhisker coming, eyes widening when she saw the unconscious warrior hanging from her jaws.  
“Bring her in; is she okay?” Dawnwhisker gently placed Briarstream down in a nest, sitting beside her.  
“She collapsed going to get food. She keeps giving her share to other cats and hasn’t eaten in days.” She said, staring at the medicine cat as she gathered herbs and pressed her paw pad gently against Briarstream’s fur. She shuddered.  
“Heat. She may have a fever.” Deerspot forced the words out. Dawnwhisker’s heart dropped. Briarstream was running on no food, little water, and now, sickness. Deerspot bustled around, placing a ball of water-soaked moss by her mouth and coaxing her awake to drink. Briarstream’s eyes were unfocused and she couldn’t even lift her head. Dawnwhisker anxiously paced by her side, fur spiked with worry. When Briarstream finally opened her eyes in full, there was a glazed twinkle that wasn’t there before. She looked around, as if more than two cats were beside her. She moved her mouth as if trying to speak, but no sound came from her throat. Deerspot glanced at Dawnwhisker, concerned. Before either cat could speak to Briarstream, pawsteps sounded outside. Fawnstorm and Ashenshadow burst into the den.  
“We heard that Briarstream fainted! Is she okay?” Fawnstorm asked, her eyes wide with fear.  
“She’s got a fever and hasn’t been eating.” Deerspot took a step back to allow her parents to stand beside her. Ashenshadow rushed to sit by her side, while Fawnstorm held her paw and crouched by her head. Dawnwhisker growled as she was shoved out of the way. She tried to move to see her sister, but their parents were blocking the way. Angry and upset, she stormed out of the den, standing just outside.  
“Briarstream? Just breathe, my kit. You’ll be okay, but you must save your strength.” Fawnstorm’s voice trembled.  
“Don’t worry, mother. I’ll be okay. I can see our ancestors surrounding us. I’ll be waiting for you both in Starclan.” Briarstream’s voice was barely audible.  
“Dawnwhisker was here just a moment ago, where is she?” She asked. Dawnwhisker heard Ashenshadow shuffle uncomfortably.  
“Don’t worry about her, just please save your energy. You don’t have to die.” Dawnwhisker had never heard her father so upset, but dug her claws into the ground at his ignorance of her.  
“She’s a good sister.. please don’t be sad..” Briarstream’s voice was trailing off and Dawnwhisker’s heart ached. A soft exhale sounded, then silence. Fawnstorm wailed and curled her tail around Briarstream’s body, while Ashenshadow pressed his nose into her fur. Dawnwhisker couldn’t stand it anymore; she was determined to say goodbye to her sister for the last time. She walked back into the den, blocking the sun from the entrance. Fawnstorm was still sobbing and barely noticed, but Ashenshadow reflexively moved to protect his mate and deceased kit from her. Dawnwhisker was taken aback. She wasn’t going to hurt them, why would he think that?  
“Let me see my sister. I want to say goodbye.” She said, struggling to keep her voice steady. Ashenshadow growled.  
“Why should we? You barely acted like a sister to her at all!” Dawnwhisker stumbled back; she hadn't expected this hostility at all. “Yes I did! We were close! Not that you’d notice or care anyway!” She snarled. Fawnstorm lifted her head, eyes blurry with tears. “Just go. You shouldn’t be here.” She meowed softly.  
“Yes I should! She was my sister, my family! She’s the only family I had! If she hadn’t given up her food for others and been so selfless, maybe she’d still be here!” Dawnwhisker’s icy eyes flashed with fury and grief and she unsheathed her claws. Ashenshadow was silent for a moment, before standing before her. His eyes reflected hers.  
“If you believe that she was the only family you truly had, then that’s true. You are no longer a kit of mine.” He spat, inches away from her face. Dawnwhisker flattened her ears and hissed.  
“I don’t care if you disown me. You were never there for me. What makes you think I’m going to care now?” Fury consumed her and she tensed her muscles to leap at him. Before she could, Fawnstorm shoved her way between the two and stared Dawnwhisker down.  
“Leave. Now. I may have kitted you, but you are no daughter of mine.” Her mother’s voice was trembling, but Dawnwhisker knew she meant it. Letting out a furious yowl, she turned and stormed out of the medicine den. Brownfur ran over to her from the warriors den, eyes wide with worry.  
“Dawnwhisker! What happened? Is Briarstream-“  
“Go away!” Dawnwhisker hissed in his face. He shrank back, eyes flattened against his head. Dawnwhisker picked up the speed and soon she was sprinting across Windclan territory. She didn’t know where she was going, nor did she care. The sun was beginning to set and the first stars of Silverpelt were starting to sparkle in the darkening sky. Dawnwhisker glared at them, before lifting her head and screaming to the sky.  
She returned back to camp hours later to see that they hadn’t waited for her to bury Briarstream. Spottedheart had died while she was out; the warrior had come down with a fever as well and died in her sleep in the warriors den. She was buried too, next to her mate Mistclaw. Their kits, Goldtail, Lochcreek and Ripplefang, were sitting vigil by her grave. Dawnwhisker tore a withering flower from the ground and placed it on Briarstream’s grave.

Two days later, the rain finally came.


	12. Two Proposals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dawnwhisker meets with some rogues in the aftermath of her sister's death, and Brownfur has an important question.

Dawnwhisker dropped herself into her nest, releasing a groan of exhaustion. The moons had been awful since Briarstream’s death. The famine had ended two days later when endless rain came and the lake territory began to slowly recover. First, the lake began to rise to it’s normal level, then fish returned to the rivers. Prey slowly became more common and the burned grass regrew in a lush green shade. Deerspot no longer worried about the loss of herbs, and hunting patrols brought back more prey than they had in moons. The other clans had suffered losses too; elders and warriors had made their way to Starclan, and Dawnwhisker heard rumors that Sparrowstar, the leader of Thunderclan, had lost a life to hunger and fever. At the last Gathering, each and every cat looked healthy and gave their thanks to Starclan for the blessing of rain. Dawnwhisker had glared at them. Starclan had done nothing. After Briarstream had died, she heard whispers of accusations behind her back; that she had killed Briarstream with deathberries due to jealousy, or that she had been stealing food from her sister in secret. This led to many arguments in camp or on patrol, and it took everything in Dawnwhisker to not attack them. Brownfur had started sticking by her side constantly and protecting her from these rumors. He was soft, but he certainly stood up for what he believed in. Dawnwhisker felt lucky to have him, but all her emotions were drowned out by fury. She would often take out this anger during her training sessions with Ghost, slicing her claws through his misty figure and yowling until her throat hurt. It was a good outlet for her energy, but it wasn’t enough. She needed more. As Dawnwhisker reminisced on these thoughts, she fell into a deep sleep. She opened her icy blue eyes, gaze scouring the dark forest around her. She padded down the familiar track that lead to the clearing where she would meet Ghost, looking up when she spotted him perched at the edge of a tree branch. His red eyes glinted with anticipation.  
“Dawnwhisker, I have some cats I’d like you to meet.” She twitched her ear.  
“No hello? It must be important.” She remarked, much to his amusement. He leapt down from where he was sat and led her through the thick undergrowth to a larger clearing. She had, of course, been here before, but now there were other cats. Dawnwhisker felt her heart beat faster. She had never seen another living cat down here, only echoes of forsaken cats almost forgotten. Three cats stood in the clearing, pelts bristling and eyes wide. When they spotted Ghost, their hackles raised and one snarled. Dawnwhisker scoffed. They were so scared; it was funny.  
“Don’t be afraid. I’ve summoned you here for a reason. My name is Ghost. This is Dawnwhisker.” Ghost spoke calmly, his voice echoing throughout the clearing.  
A silver she-cat growled. “She’s got a clan name! Disgusting.” Dawnwhisker dug her claws into the ground, but Ghost intervened before she could snap a reply.  
“She may have a name of the clans, but Dawnwhisker is special. She’s been under my tutelage for many seasons now. You can trust her.”  
“The clans are not my family, I can assure you that.” Hatred laced each word Dawnwhisker spoke, and one of the cats blinked in surprise. The silver she-cat looked her up and down, before pricking up her ears.  
“I’m Hail. That’s Flash,” She gestured to a grey tom with a scar over one eye, then to a golden tabby she-cat. “And that’s Ernest.” Each cat nodded in turn, eyes focused on Dawnwhisker. Ghost smiled.  
“I’ve brought you all here because I know you have a common goal. Power, strength, worthiness, whatever your heart desires.” Ghost began to walk around the three rogues, winding between them and causing them to shudder as his wispy form passed through their pelts. “You’re rogues, after all. You have nothing. But..” He grinned. “I can give you an empire. Cats from the city, the clans, the mountains. They will all cower in fear at the mere mention of your names.” The rogues’ eyes lit up with interest.  
“How does that sound?” Ghost turned to them. Flash nodded eagerly, while Hail and Ernest exchanged glances.  
“And you can give us all that? How?” Ernest asked, tipping her head to one side.  
“That’s where Dawnwhisker comes in. The clans have a specific hierarchy and system that, once exploited, can be used to make them come crumbling down. Dawnwhisker lives in Windclan and knows the ins-and-outs of everything to do with clan life. Once one clan falls..” Ghost lifted his claws, bringing one down. “The rest will follow.” He brought the rest down, eyes glinting in the dusty air.  
“We will overtake the clans and defeat their cats. Then, power will be yours. More allies, more territory, more food, more cats to do your bidding. It’ll be perfect!” Dawnwhisker grew more and more excited with every word Ghost said.  
“They depend on their ghostly ancestors too much, even when they’ve done nothing to help them.” Dawnwhisker stepped forwards. “We went through a horrible famine a few moons ago. I lost my sister to it. Starclan did nothing to help us, but when the rain returned, they had the gall to thank them!” She snarled furiously. Hail unsheathed her claws and Flash hissed in response.  
“I stepped on one clan’s territory once during the famine, half-starved and looking for food. They fought me and took away my eye. I’ll never forgive those filthy scraps for what they did.” Flash spoke up.  
“I promise that once Windclan has fallen, I’ll make all of my clanmates pay for how they’ve treated me and you, and every other cat they’ve harmed. Then, we can pick off each clan easily. They’re weak when their ancestors fail them.” Dawnwhisker grinned. The rogues looked up to her eagerly, as if they were ready to fight there and then.  
“I’m so glad that you’re all getting along nicely.” Ghost put in, resting his tail on Dawnwhisker’s shoulder.  
“I want you to meet in the real world, so Dawnwhisker can teach you all what she’s learned. I’ll be watching, of course, but Dawnwhisker will be your leader.” She puffed out her chest proudly. These cats were hers to train.  
“Gather your friends and others who want a better life. You’ll need an army to increase your power. Meet at the woodland area of Windclan territory. Follow Dawnwhisker’s orders; she knows how to do this better than you.” The rogues nodded in response, and Dawnwhisker grinned. Her plans were one step closer to reality.

Dawnwhisker woke up slowly in her den. She stretched her paws out, stopping mid-yawn when she noticed that there was a piece of fresh kill before her. Brownfur’s snores sounded beside her, and she turned to see him curled against her pelt. When she moved away, he woke up slowly, blinking through the sunlight filtering through the leaves of the den.  
“Huh.. Oh! Good morning, Dawnwhisker! I brought you some prey from the dawn patrol I went on. Though, I didn’t get much rest last night; I must have fallen asleep after I brought it in.” He chuckled. Dawnwhisker smiled, touching her nose to his ear tip in gratitude and taking a bite from the prey. They shared it together, fur brushing to share their warmth from the cold wind outside. It was beginning to become leaf-bare and the rain after the famine brought chills with it. As they ate, Dawnwhisker noticed that the tom seemed nervous; he twitched his tail and shuffled his paws a lot more than usual, and he constantly avoided her gaze. What was he doing? Once she had finished, she stood and shook the moss from her fur.  
“We should probably go. Beechstar will want us for a patrol or something.”  
“Actually.. I excused us from warrior duties today.” Brownfur looked down sheepishly. “I wanted to spend some time with you.” Dawnwhisker blinked, her suspicions rising.  
“Okay.. What do you want to do then?”  
“How about a walk over the moor? I hear the sky looks nice today.” He suggested. Dawnwhisker shrugged, frowning a little as his ears pricked up excitedly and he trotted towards the exit of camp. She followed close behind, half-listening to him chatter. She was too caught up in her thinking about the meeting with the rogues. It would be tricky to meet with them every night; the clan was suspicious of her enough anyway, but she was sure she’d manage to figure something out. She was snapped out of her thoughts when she almost ran into Brownfur’s tail. He had stopped at the peak of one of the hills overlooking the lake. The clouds mirrored in it’s serene blue stillness, and the other territories were visible in the distance.  
“Dawnwhisker, I-I asked you to come with me because I’ve got a question for you.” He sat down, paws trembling.  
“Since we were kits in the nursery, I’ve looked up to you. We’ve been friends our entire lives and I’ve done all I can to make you happy. Even if others don’t like us, I don’t care. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, by your side. I want to defend you and protect you, I’ll give you my all.” His eyes glittered hopefully.  
“Dawnwhisker, you’re the most incredible cat I’ve ever known. I want to make you happy for as long as I can, so.. will you be my mate?”  
Dawnwhisker nearly stumbled back. His mate? He was asking her to be his partner for life! Of course he’d be sappy enough to do this! She panicked, thoughts whirling around her head. She didn’t know if she loved him or not, she hadn’t ever really thought about it. But he had done so much and his heart was too fragile to say no. Perhaps she would stop getting so many hostile glares if she said yes. It could certainly lower other cats’ suspicions if she seemed to be taking part in a normal cat’s life? Taking a deep breath, she nodded.  
“Of course.” She feigned a smile, forcing a chuckle when Brownfur leapt up and wound himself around her lovingly. She held back a huff of irritation as his fur smothered her, but she moved her body so she was hugging him back. Their tails intertwined, and the sun shone high in the sky.


	13. Expecting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dawnwhisker makes a shocking discovery, and ponders what the future will be.

7 moons had passed since Dawnwhisker and Brownfur became mates. The clan had been surprised at the news, unsure of the couple’s dynamic. But, Brownfur couldn’t be happier, and if he was sure, then so were the rest of the clan. Fawnstorm and Ashenshadow kept their distance, muttering a congratulations to Brownfur in passing. Dawnwhisker shot them a glare; they had disowned her, they weren’t allowed to care anymore. Deerspot even cast her a wary look from time to time, but the ginger warrior knew that the old medicine cat had no proof against her. She wouldn’t stand a chance. Elmsong, Dawnwhisker’s mentor, had her first litter of kits shortly after. Two were stillborn, but three were alive and healthy. Despite the fact that Dawnwhisker hated kits, she took her mentor some prey so she could see the little ones. They were a mix of ginger and calico, like Elmsong and Stonestep, their father. Elmsong had named them Darkkit, Amberkit and Brightkit. As time went on, more another kit was born to Duskjaw and Nightcreek. Brownfur had been excited to meet his new sibling, introducing Dawnwhisker to Oakkit when she was a few days old. The brown tabby kitten shared his green eyes, soft and hopeful. Beechstar had been wounded when a hare struck her shoulder, leaving her with a nasty scar. It had become infected and the leader lost her first life. However, she had come back stronger than ever, as if she had been enlightened further by her brief visit to Starclan.  
At the start of greenleaf, Elmsong’s kits were apprenticed. Darkpaw got Tallbranch, Amberpaw got Pebbletail, and Brightpaw got Doestep. Dawnwhisker bit back a note of sour jealousy that she hadn’t got an apprentice. Another ally within her clan would have been useful, but she suspected that Beechstar knew about the supposed omen surrounding her. Either way, she shrugged it off. She was spending plenty of time with her rogues. They met once a week near the woodland area of Windclan, just outside of clan territory, to train and spar. More members had joined as time passed; some had heard of them and travelled to join, and others were introduced by current members. Hail had disappeared for a number of days, leaving Dawnwhisker to grow concerned that one of her strongest fighters had died. However, she returned with two kits hanging from her jaws. Turns out, her mate had been seeing a kittypet behind her back, and when she found out, she murdered him. She tracked down the kittypet and killed her too, before spotting her mate’s kits. Hail reported that the best revenge would be to see the kits grow into brilliant fighters by her side, and Dawnwhisker agreed. The kits were named Lilac and Twist, and seemed to enjoy learning how to fight with Hail. The moons had flown by as Dawnwhisker slipped into a routine. She would fulfil her clan duties during the day, speak with Ghost at night, and train the rogues once a week.  
Now, it was the middle of greenleaf and Dawnwhisker was settling down for the night. She rested her head on her paws, frowning as she shifted in her nest. She felt uncomfortable; it had been a reoccuring sensation for the last moon or so. She growled under her breath, forcing herself to drift into sleep.  
Dawnwhisker blinked open her eyes to see the familiar misty woodland before her. She glanced up; no stars in the dark sky. As she began to walk, her paws felt much heavier than before. She almost tripped over a tree root that had been jutting out of the ground for as long as she could remember. Something was off and she didn’t know what; it concerned her. She couldn’t afford to be getting ill now! She had a band of rogues depending on her! Dawnwhisker powered through the feeling and although she tried to pick up her pace, her body felt so different and heavy that she struggled to run. Reluctantly slipping into a slow trot, she spotted Ghost on the trail ahead.  
“Ghost! I need your help.” The dark tom turned to look at her, a knowing glint in his eyes.  
“Oh, really? How do you know?”  
“I feel off. Something’s wrong and I can’t figure it out.” She looked at him, annoyed at the amusement in his gaze.  
“Nothing’s wrong with you, Dawnwhisker. Quite the opposite, actually.” Dawnwhisker growled.  
“What’s that supposed to mean?” She hissed. Ghost smiled, a chuckle rumbling in his throat.  
“No need for the hostility. You’re simply expecting kits.”  
The words hit Dawnwhisker like a rock.  
“Kits? How can I be expecting kits? I hate kits!” She dug her claws into the ground to steady herself, feeling defeated as she sat down.  
“I don’t want kits. They’ll only slow me down. I can’t imagine being stuck in the nursery, having to deal with pathetic scraps of fur for 6 moons. I can’t do it!” She flattened her ears. Ghost rested his tail on her shoulder.  
“Calm down, Dawnwhisker. Don’t you see? This is the perfect opportunity! You’ll have kin. You can easily set them on the right course, teach them to follow in your pawsteps. They can grow strong and join your army.” He grinned, teeth bared.  
“They’ll grow up believing in your cause. Sure, the clan will help to raise them and mentor them, but they’ll have to listen to you; their mother.” He circled her. “I know that your mother was a careless queen, giving more attention to your sister and leaving you to rot in her shadow, but you’ve learned from that. You won’t let that happen to kin of your own, will you?”  
Dawnwhisker lifted her gaze, feeling a little less down.  
“Of course not. If I’m going to have kits, they’re all going to be strong. There’s no excuse. If they’re weak, they’ll be left behind. I don’t have the time or patience to nurture a weakling.” Ghost nodded in agreement.  
“You mustn’t let the clan destroy their minds with useless nonsense about Starclan and the code. They’ll want to hear stories from the elders, or spend time with Beechstar and Deerspot, but they shan’t be allowed. We can’t accept weak-minded cats into our ranks.”  
Dawnwhisker got to her paws, icy blue gaze sharpened once more.  
“Absolutely. I’ll have these kits, and I’ll make them perfect. I won’t accept anything else.”


	14. Motherhood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dawnwhisker becomes a mother to three kits, but her love for them doesn't exist. When she loses her temper, what happens shapes the kits' lives forever.

“And you’re done. Two toms and a she-kit. Congratulations.” Deerspot leaned over to lick the tiny bundles of wet fur by Dawnwhisker’s belly. She let out a groan of relief and rested her head on her paws. The ginger queen barely had the energy to open her eyes to look round at her kits. She had begun knitting them that morning, and now it was sun-high. In her head, she thought to herself. Only three kits? It felt like she’d been kitting forever! Finally, she mustered up the energy to shuffle round so she could look at her kits, but she was taken aback by how small they were. Their limbs were shaky and their heads wobbled atop their necks. Their mouths opened and shut in quiet, tiny mewls, folded ears twitching and eyelids fused shut. They were so fragile, so weak. Dawnwhisker used her tail to sweep them closer to her belly, since they clearly had no sense of direction. One of the toms had ginger fur like herself, and the other looked more like Brownfur. The she-kit was white, except for a few areas of grey that would soon grow into black. Dawnwhisker frowned; she knew that the white fur came from Fawnstorm. Perfect, her only daughter was a grim reminder of the cat who had disowned her. As she watched the tiny scraps knead her belly and settle once they got their milk, she realised that she felt nothing. Usually, she heard of queens falling in love with their kits at first sight; but she didn’t feel that. More than anything, she just thought of this litter as an annoyance. They constantly mewled and were so, so weak. The tom that looked like Brownfur was so much smaller than his siblings, and Dawnwhisker watched him struggle to find a place to settle. Before she could do anything else, Brownfur ducked into the den, eyes sparkling. He led down beside her and gave a few comforting licks to her forehead. Dawnwhisker smiled. She knew he already loved them more than she ever would. Looking down at them again, she spoke quietly.  
“They’re so tiny. So weak.”  
“But they’ll grow into fine warriors. You’re their mother, after all.” He pointed out, purring. “What shall we name them?” Dawnwhisker stretched her mouth open in a yawn, moving her head away from Brownfur so she could lay on a patch of moss. The name ‘Raven’ came to mind as she thought of the ginger tom’s feathery fur.  
“I’d like to call the ginger one Ravenkit.” She shrugged. “I’ll let you name the other two.”  
Brownfur leaned over to inspect the kits, eyes softening and a loud purr leaving his throat. The white she-kit mewled quietly.  
“Snowkit. Snowkit and..” He looked at the other tom, and Dawnwhisker knew he was admiring his similar fur.  
“Berrykit.” Dawnwhisker snorted under her breath in response.  
“Sure. Whatever you say.” She felt the embrace of sleep take her; her body felt so exhausted, she couldn’t even fight it.

The days passed agonisingly slow in the nursery. Dawnwhisker had already informed her rogue group that she would not be able to meet until her kits were able to eat prey. Her belly had been so swollen that the walk there and back had been almost painful, and she had kitted only a few days later. The kits grew slowly, but Dawnwhisker was relieved to see them developing and growing as planned. Snowkit was curious, with matching blue eyes that brightened whenever she saw something new. Ravenkit was mischievous and loved to play, and would often latch onto Dawnwhisker’s tail with his sharp kitten teeth whenever she twitched the tip in annoyance. Berrykit was growing a lot slower than his siblings, but they made sure to include him all the same. When he was about 2 weeks old, Dawnwhisker noticed he was coughing a lot during the night. She snapped at him to stop, as she wasn’t able to sleep, but he still didn’t stay quiet. Brownfur expressed his concern for his son, but Dawnwhisker pushed him off. “He’ll be fine, he just had a feather in his throat. He’ll get over it in no time.” The coughing drove Dawnwhisker half insane, but she refused to let Deerspot anywhere close to him. She remembered Ghost’s words from when she first found she was expecting kits. Letting him spend time with the medicine cat or leader would set him down the wrong path. He’d become a loyal clan cat, and Dawnwhisker refused to let that happen. Once, Deerspot had even tried to treat the kit while she was asleep, but Snowkit tripping over her paw had woken her up and the queen snapped angrily at the old medicine cat. The kits huddled together in fear as they watched their mother threaten Deerspot. Finally, the old cat seemed to get the hint and left Berrykit alone. However, Brownfur didn’t seem happy with Dawnwhisker’s behaviour.  
“You’ve got to let her help him! I’m scared he won’t make it to 6 moons; please let her help.” He pleaded. Dawnwhisker growled.  
“The only thing that old hag is going to do is put stupid ideas in his brain. I refuse to let her come near him. These are my kits, I’ll do what I like with them.”  
Their relationship had become more strained since Berrykit’s illness got worse and it became more and more evident that Dawnwhisker didn’t care for the kits if they weren’t strong. Finally, just after the litter turned 3 moons old, they snapped. She returned from getting herself some prey to find Brownfur with the kits, urging Berrykit to eat some herbs from Deerspot. Dawnwhisker snarled, fur bristling.  
“What are you doing?” Brownfur whipped round, flattening his ears.  
“I’m helping my kits! They’re going to get sick if you don’t do anything to look after them!” Dawnwhisker hissed.  
“Those useless scraps are worthless. They won’t amount to anything with you.” She unsheathed her claws. She didn’t care anymore; she should have done this a long time ago. Her angry gaze settled on the kits.  
“Let me through.”  
Brownfur’s eyes widened, realising what she was about to do. Standing, he stood protectively in front of the kits, who cowered behind his paws. Dawnwhisker had never seen him so angry.  
“Why are you like this, Dawnwhisker? What changed?” He asked, narrowing his eyes. Although he was acting brave, Dawnwhisker could hear the upset tremble in his voice; the note of betrayal.  
“Nothing has changed, Brownfur!” She spat. “I have never loved you, and I’ll never love our kits.” Brownfur seemed to stumble slightly, his legs shaking. Dawnwhisker held his gaze for a heartbeat before turning round and stalking out of the den. She could hear the other nursery queens yowling insults at her. “What kind of mother are you to abandon your kits? They’re barely a few moons old!” Goldtail hissed, curling her tail around her four kits. “Disgusting behaviour! You were never fit to have a family!” Doestep snarled. Dawnwhisker didn’t care. Maybe she wasn’t fit for a family. That wasn’t going to stop her from getting what she wanted. Casting one last glance into the nursery to watch Brownfur crumple to the ground, heartbroken, she set her gaze on the horizon and ran out of camp.

News of what she had done got around camp quickly. When she returned later that day, the clearing went silent. Beechstar stared angrily at her from atop High Rock. Deerspot glared from the entrance of the medicine den. Elmsong hissed as Fawnstorm and Ashenshadow refused to look at her. Dawnwhisker felt the fur on her neck bristle. She didn’t need anyone in this clan anyway. She had her own group of rogues, and she’d take great pleasure in killing each and every one of her old ‘clanmates’.  
A moon later, Berrykit’s condition had worsened. Dawnwhisker had eavesdropped on conversations involving the young kits. Due to the lack of her milk and, ultimately, lack of her care for the kits, Berrykit was too sick to eat or do anything at all. The clan knew that he wasn’t going to last the night. Sitting across from the medicine den, Dawnwhisker watched from the shadow of High Rock as Deerspot called for Brownfur to spend time with Berrykit in his last moments. The tom curled himself around the tiny, frail kitten, and Dawnwhisker watched as his sides stopped heaving for air and his body went still. The silence was deafening. Dawnwhisker kept a steady gaze on the den, realising slowly that she felt no grief nor sadness at the death of her kit. It was almost satisfying how she wasn’t affected in the slightest at her son’s demise. She was drawn from her thoughts as a pale shape, illuminated by the moonlight, padded through the clearing towards the den. Brownfur nor Deerspot were reacting, and when she squinted, she recognised the cat to be.. Briarstream? The ghostly figure of her sister leaned down to touch the top of Berrykit’s head with her nose. When she made contact, a small starry kitten rose from the body and moved to stand with her. Briarstream smiled and murmured something in his ear, before leading the kit out of the den. And, just as quick as they appeared, they were gone. When Dawnwhisker turned her head back towards the medicine den, she caught Brownfur staring at her. She narrowed her eyes and rose to her paws before walking in the direction of the camp exit. She barely got a few steps out of camp before she heard pawsteps behind her.  
“Look, Brownfur, I don’t care-“ She turned around, only to be faced with Deerspot. The old medicine cat was shaking with rage, her amber eyes burning like fire as they met Dawnwhisker’s icy blue ones.  
“Are you happy? Was it worth it?” She asked furiously.  
“Because of you, a kit has died. Your kit, nonetheless. What do you think Brownfur is going through now? And their siblings? Do you realise how selfish you are?” Dawnwhisker kept her expression the same, before leaning towards the old cat and shoving her muzzle in her face.  
“I know what you think of me, and believe me, I don’t care. Brownfur is not my mate, and those. Are not. My kits.” She spat. Straightening up, she felt a surge of satisfaction at the look of fear in the medicine cat’s eyes.  
“You have no idea what I’m truly capable of.” And with that, Dawnwhisker turned away and stalked across the moor, leaving the medicine cat alone.


	15. A Challenge of Leadership

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life moves on in Windclan, and Dawnwhisker takes care of an issue within her rogue group.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all! I hope you're enjoying the story so far! The final chapter, chapter 16, of this story will be posted at the usual 9pm BST next Wednesday! I'll be writing more short stories in the lead-up to my next novella, so keep an eye out! Feel free to follow me on twitter (@roserocks_art) for updates!

From that day onward, Dawnwhisker no longer considered herself the mother of the kits. Brownfur took up the responsibility of being their only parent, and the other queens affectionately named him ‘den dad’. He seemed to enjoy the role and was a lot happier with his kits. Beechstar excused him from warrior duties, as she would to a regular queen in the nursery, and took an interest in the kits too. She particularly liked Snowkit’s sensibility and braveness. Dawnwhisker snorted. What sensibility? When she went to meet the rogues one night, she only got a few sentences into her conversation when she heard little whispering voices a few fox lengths away. She had encouraged the rogues to run, in case it was an early Windclan patrol, but she had only stumbled upon Snowkit and her best friend, Birchkit. Dawnwhisker had been beyond furious and scolded the kits there and then. She grabbed Snowkit roughly by her scruff and carried her back to camp with Birchkit trailing behind. She stopped herself from breathing in the kit’s scent; as it was still so much like her own. She had disowned her, and it would stay that way. When she had returned to camp, Dawnwhisker dropped the kit at Brownfur’s paws. The tom had been in a panicked search all over camp, along with Goldtail, Birchkit’s mother. Dawnwhisker had explained where she had found the kits and smirked to herself as she walked away, hearing Brownfur and Beechstar tell them off.  
Shortly afterwards, Snowkit and Ravenkit became apprentices. Snowpaw got Raintail, and Dawnwhisker watched from a distance as she and Birchpaw got closer and closer. Ravenpaw struggled at first with his training, as his own mentor was hesitant due to how much he resembled Dawnwhisker. She felt a surge of glee at this; perhaps her son would consider following in her pawsteps and training with the rogues. Unfortunately, his attitude changed when he went to speak with Beechstar about his worries, and he began to quickly grow into a fine warrior, following the code and being respectful. Brownfur often expressed how proud of his kits he was, and Dawnwhisker hated it.  
In the meantime, she had continued her training with the rogues. They were growing in numbers quicker than she ever expected. Lilac and Twist, the kits that Hail had stolen and raised as her own, had become experienced young fighters. Lilac always seemed rather hesitant, but had a relationship with an eager and dangerous fighter named Zico. The tom was fierce and Dawnwhisker allowed him to train some of the new recruits. From a group that had started with 3 rogues, Dawnwhisker and Ghost were both extremely pleased that they now had around 20 members. Some were kittypets that were looking for a way to escape their boring lives. Others were loners that were convinced of their cause. However, most were rogues who stumbled across the group and aimed for power too. The lucky ones recognised that joining the group would be their best way of achieving their goal. Though, others decided to put up a fight, and they were the unlucky ones. Dawnwhisker had often returned to the group’s meeting spot to find the bodies of cats decomposing in a ditch, with some of the group members dripping with blood. She didn’t care. Anyone who stood in their way would be mowed down with claws and teeth. Now, Dawnwhisker padded along the moor towards the meeting place. Snowpaw and Ravenpaw were nearly warriors and it had been seasons since she disowned them. The ginger warrior trotted along the grass, breaking into a sprint when she spotted the bushes and trees in the distance. When she reached the group, however, she found a scene she didn’t like. A rogue who had been in the group for about 6 moons was stood on her announcement tree stump. His name was Rome and he was a strong, bulky black cat. He held a reputation of being one of the most lethal members of the group, with claws that could slice through a cat’s throat as smoothly as if it were air. He held his tail high, issuing orders to the confused rogues who stood nearby. Dawnwhisker stepped into the grove and cleared her throat to get his attention. Rome’s red eyes flickered to look at her, and a twisted grin grew on his face.  
“Ah, Dawnwhisker. I’m glad you could finally make it. There’s been some changes around here since you last showed up.” Dawnwhisker held back a growl.  
“It’s been mere days. Enlighten me, then. What have I missed?”  
Rome chuckled, leaping down from the stump to stand a tail-length from her.  
“I’ve decided that you’re too weak of a leader for us. I’ll be taking over as leader, and you’ll be taking your leave.” Dawnwhisker dug her claws into the ground.  
“Why do you think I’m weak?”  
Rome smiled. “Easy. You’re thin, you spend your days and energy with other clan cats, and you’ve had kits.” Dawnwhisker’s eyes flashed in fury.  
“Every other rogue here is thin! We live off the scraps of the clans. I spend my energy with Windclan because I don’t want to get exiled. You need a paw in the clans and that’s exactly what I am. And the fact I’ve had kits has nothing to do with weakness.” She snarled. “The kits may be worthless, but I am certainly not.” Many rogue cats gathered around with wide eyes to watch, forming a circle around the two. Rome’s fur began to bristle as Dawnwhisker continued.  
“I’m leader because I’m the one who had trained with Ghost her entire life. Ghost assigned me to these rogues-”  
“Ghost is nothing but an echo of a cat who died generations before anyone around this lake was even born.” Rome cut her off with a hiss. “What he says has no influence here. If you think you can lead, prove it in battle.” The large tom unsheathed his claws and crouched. Dawnwhisker growled and did the same. A heartbeat of silence passed before the two leapt at each other. A flurry of claws, teeth, and fur moved around the clearing, with yowls of fury inbetween the tearing of skin. Blood spattered on the grass and the rogues watched in fear. Dawnwhisker used every bit of her strength to fight, ducking Rome’s throws and slashing her claws along his side. He hissed as Dawnwhisker used her speed and size to her advantage. Suddenly, he managed to hook his claws around her throat and pin her to the ground. Breathing heavily, she glared up at him as he began to gloat.  
“Pathetic. You can’t win this fight, and now you’ve lost your rogues! They’re mine.” He leaned closer until their muzzles were brushing. Dawnwhisker was filled with rage and yowled as loud as she could. While he was close, she leaned up and bit down hard on his ear. The tom drew back and hissed, ignoring the blood trailing down from the space where his ear tip used to be. Dawnwhisker spat the piece of flesh out and used her hind claws to rake down his belly. Rome snarled and staggered back in pain. Collecting himself, he bunched his muscles and leapt at Dawnwhisker. She rolled onto her belly and stood up in time to see him coming at her. Raising a paw, she slashed her claws from his throat down to his belly. Blood sprayed from the open wound and Rome landed behind her with a thud. The tom’s organs and ribcage were visible, and he gasped ruggedly for air as crimson spilled out onto the ground. The clearing was silent, except for his breathing. Then, he stopped moving and his body fell still. All eyes were on Dawnwhisker as she stepped forwards and pressed her claws onto his face. Looking around at her rogues, she yowled a warning.  
“If anyone dares to question my authority or challenge me, you will end up like this! Don’t you dare disobey me!” As she spoke, her supporters cheered her name. The rogues who hadn’t been sure whose side to choose before the battle joined in. Soon, every cat in the clearing was calling her name in victory. Dawnwhisker grinned as blood rolled down her cheek. She was completely in control.


	16. Exile

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dawnwhisker's rogue group grows stronger by the day, but the ginger cat suspects she is being followed, and her terrible secret is outed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoo! That's Dawnwhisker's Plot done!! I'm so happy I got to share another story with you all, it's been a blast!  
> I'm certainly not done with this universe, but I'll be taking a short break from longer stories for a little bit! I've got a backlog of short stories from different clans/cats/times, which I'll be sharing every few weeks! Follow me on Twitter to get the latest updates and to follow my art @roserocks_art!

“I’d like to make an announcement.” The rogue group was gathered in the ditch they called camp. The younger cats were training at the edges with the older, more experienced fighters, and many other cats were milling around with prey or cleaning blood from their fur. Dawnwhisker looked up from the meeting she was having with Hail, Flash and Ernest. Her icy blue eyes narrowed on the cat who had called attention to himself. Zico, the brown tom who had become Lilac’s mate, looked around the camp with his tail held high. Lilac stood beside him, nervously curling her tail over her paws.  
“You have our attention, Zico. Speak, or you’re wasting our time.” Dawnwhisker twitched her ear. Zico blinked at her with a grin.  
“Me and Lilac are expecting our first litter.” He purred loudly, nudging Lilac to speak. The small she-cat flattened her ears anxiously, but stood up to reveal her swollen stomach.  
“I-I’m expecting kits. We should have more fighters to join us soon.” The rogues around them cheered and called over congratulations. Lilac smiled sheepishly, and pushed her face into Zico’s fur. Dawnwhisker smiled in content, though she noticed that the queen didn’t seem very confident in her announcement. Was she perhaps hiding something? She had always been reluctant to fight, and Dawnwhisker suspected that she didn’t want her kits to fight either. Shrugging it off, she turned back to her group. If Lilac had something to tell, she would tell them before long.  
“So, we need to figure out when we’re next going to attack. The fox attack last moon didn’t work as we hoped.” Ernest spoke. Dawnwhisker dug her claws into the ground.  
“When I oversaw it, our predictions were off. There were too many warriors in camp. We only managed to disable one of them, and she’s recovering quicker than any of us expected.” She remembered watching from behind High Rock as Amberleaf, a Windclan warrior, had her leg torn off by one of the foxes that she and her rogues had driven into the camp in an attempt to lessen Windclan’s numbers. Snowclaw had been there to fight it off and prevent Amberleaf’s fate from being much worse. Snowclaw was always sticking her head into places she shouldn’t, and it irritated Dawnwhisker to no end. After Lilypaw, the medicine cat apprentice, had experienced a vision in the middle of camp one day, Snowclaw had kept an eye on her estranged mother. Dawnwhisker had been sitting nearby when the vision occurred, but took little notice, as she was sure Deerspot had already told her apprentice about the negative omens surrounding Dawnwhisker. Unless this was a new one, perhaps?  
Dawnwhisker snapped out of her thoughts as Hail stood up. “It’s nearly sunhigh. You should get back to camp before any clan cats notice you’re gone.” Dawnwhisker nodded, stretching and standing up.  
“Ernest, can I meet you by the woods in a moon to see how the fighters are doing? I’d love to come and visit the camp more often, but with Snowclaw constantly on my tail, it’s getting harder and harder to slip out of camp.” The golden tabby nodded.  
“I’ll bring some of the new fighters too. It’ll be good experience for them to step paw inside the territory we’ll be attacking. You can trust me and Hail to lead the camp while you’re gone.” She gave a respectful dip of her head when Dawnwhisker smiled. Turning away, she padded out of the camp, breaking into a sprint once she reached the moors.

A moon later, she walked over the hills towards the woodland area of Windclan territory. Her pawpads were freezing from the frost and snow on the ground, but she had a duty to fulfil. Ghost had warned her the previous night that she had been watched; even now, she felt like she wasn’t alone. But, she couldn’t miss this meeting. It was important. She approached the border of clan territory and watched as the three rogues came to meet her. Sitting down, she curled her tail around her paws in an attempt to warm herself up. Ernest was shivering, but fluffed out her fur to try and stay warm.  
“So, how has training been going?” Dawnwhisker asked, glancing at the other two cats. One was a short calico, and the other was a tall black cat. They were some of the new recruits of loners and rogues.  
“Training has been going excellently. Flash is teaching some stealth skills to some of the younger loners, and Zico is doing his part with organising cats to make dens and such.” The golden she-cat chuckled. “We’re getting so many cats that we’re needing more space!”  
Dawnwhisker grinned. “Good. We’ll have all the space we need once we’ve driven the clans out. Patrolling all that space won’t be easy.”  
The small calico nodded eagerly.  
“And with Lilac’s kits, there’ll be more fighters than ever!” Dawnwhisker looked down at him. He was clearly prepared for war; it almost warmed her heart.  
“It seems that the group is doing well in my absence. I only hope to rejoin you again soon once suspicions lessen.” Dawnwhisker knew she was lying, as she could sense the burning gaze of eyes bearing into her spine. She glanced round, but couldn’t see anything. The snow was beginning to melt, so any scents were lost. Ernest and the two rogues stood up and dipped their heads before bounding into the shadows. Dawnwhisker stood up and began her sprint back to camp. Perhaps running would warm her up; or lose any spies that may be on her tail.

“Cats of Windclan, gather beneath the High Rock. I have something I must do.” Dawnwhisker had only been back in camp for a few hours when Beechstar called a meeting. Her tone was sharp and Dawnwhisker didn’t need to look up to tell that the leader was furious. She padded to sit alone at the back of the crowd, but was startled when Beechstar’s eyes rested on her.  
“I will not delay this meeting any further. There is a traitor amongst us! Dawnwhisker. Come to the front. Now.” Keeping her cool composure, Dawnwhisker walked to the front as the crowds began to part. Looking around, she spotted many scared or angry faces. Deerspot had her eyes narrowed on her, while Lilypaw looked like she had just seen a spirit. Brownfur and Ravenflame watched anxiously, and Snowclaw sat beside Tallbranch with an air of calmness.  
“Would you like to tell the clan what you have been doing, or shall I?” Beechstar demanded. Dawnwhisker’s fur bristled. Of course, she must have been followed. “I haven’t been doing anything.” She responded. Beechstar frowned. “Very well.” The leader began detailing what she had done to raise suspicions in camp, but then mentioned something about a warrior notifying her of activities out of camp. Immediately, Dawnwhisker snapped her head round to look at Snowclaw. Her daughter kept her gaze on Beechstar, but Dawnwhisker spotted her trembling tail-tip.  
“Dawnwhisker, you have chosen the life of a rogue. You have endangered your clan and plotted against every cat in the lake territory. What do you have to say for yourself?” Beechstar snarled. Dawnwhisker heard the cats around her gasp in horror.  
“I thought I had been followed last night, but I didn’t think my own leader would be that mouse-brained. I’ve been followed before though, haven’t I, Snowclaw?” Dawnwhisker growled menacingly, her hackles raising when the white warrior finally turned to face her. “And you know I was justified in that decision.” Dawnwhisker felt a surge of fury shoot through her veins and she unsheathed her claws. She strode forwards, shoving her muzzle into Snowclaw’s face.  
“You were never worth anything to me. You’re a useless piece of crowfood, and I wish you had died alongside your brother long ago.” She spat, but Snowclaw didn’t even blink. It only infuriated her more. “I wish that the foxes I lead into camp had killed you, but instead they just crippled that pathetic lump of fur.” An echo of shocked gasps came from the crowd as the warriors turned to look at Amberleaf, whose head was bowed in sadness.  
“You’re a coward, and that’s all you’ll ever be!” Dawnwhisker snarled, and drew back her paw. Her sharp claws glistened in the sun and she aimed for Snowclaw’s throat. Before she could even get close, she felt teeth pulling at her scruff. Dawnwhisker whipped round to see who had pulled her back, only to come face-to-face with Brownfur. Her former mate’s eyes were round and brimming with sadness and betrayal.  
“Just go.” Those two words clearly took a lot of courage for him to say. For the first time in his life, he wasn’t being a coward against her. He stood his ground, gaze unwavering. Dawnwhisker held it with her own sharp blue one.   
“Leave our territory. Now. If we catch you on Windclan land again, we won’t hesitate to attack. Don’t even think about going to another clan. You’re no longer welcome here.” Beechstar’s voice cut through the silence, and Dawnwhisker growled. Throwing one last venomous glare at her ex-mate and kits, she began to walk towards the exit of camp. Deerspot and Lilypaw watched her leave with calm fury. Fawnstorm and Ashenshadow turned their heads away, refusing to give her any of their attention. Dawnwhisker ignored the angry yowls and poisonous insults that were thrown at her as she walked. She was no longer a Windclan cat; now she was finally a rogue, and she would ensure the clans would suffer beneath her claws.


End file.
